It all started with the Cannon Fire
by AvalonAngel215
Summary: What if Abigail Ashe had left Charleston with Captain Vane that fateful day? AsheVane. Canon compliant until the beginning of 2x10!
1. Prologue

The carriage had just turned onto the main road as the cannon fire started. The first two shots hit somewhere in the distance and only managed to startle Abigail out of the reverie that she had found herself in. She was to be spirited away to some small plantation far away from Charles Town. There was no place for her here – not after her stay among pirates even if it was an unwilling one.


	2. Chapter 01

The third cannon ball however impacted close by and frightened the horses. The driver struggled to control them but a fourth shot hitting another nearby building send the horses over the edge into a panic. They began galloping down the street violently shaking the carriage and its passengers. A building exploded in front of the horses which ran off to the side tipping over the carriage in the process. There was the sound of panicked horses, wood breaking and splintering, and then nothing. Just darkness and silence.

Abigail woke with a start. Her head ringing, her back and knee aching. At first, she couldn't hear anything and started wondering how long she had been out, but then sound returned and it was deafening. The cannon fire seemed to have intensified and the whole of Charles Town seemed to either be screaming in anger or crying out in pain. This was her chance – her one chance to get away from this. She wouldn't let herself be handled like a piece of furniture anymore. It was time to take matters into her own hand. She looked around and saw Mrs. Yate – the handmaiden assigned to her by her father to watch her – lying unconscious on the floor. She was still breathing. Hopefully she wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.

Abigail quickly scrambled out of the carriage. Tearing her dress even more so in the process. She managed to climb out of the broken floor. The carriage had somehow ended up half on its roof, half on its side. It was a wonder that both she and Mrs. Yate were still alive. She looked around for the driver and found him half underneath the carriage. It didn't look like he was breathing anymore. "Good," she thought, "he won't be needing his weapon anymore!" She grabbed the sword that was strapped to his belt. It was heavier than she imagined. She feared she wouldn't be able to use it effectively. He former life didn't involve much physical activity and she lacked strength. She tossed the sword aside and grabbed the dagger the driver had strapped to his boot instead. It was much lighter and she would be able to use it. Of course, it wouldn't do her much good in a full-on fight but being armed made her feel much safer regardless.


	3. Chapter 02

Abigail had no idea how close she was to the town's square where the executions were set to happen. She just knew she had to get to the harbour as quickly as possible. The longer she waited around the less likely it would be that she would encounter the pirates. The chance of this occurring was slim at best regardless.

She set off but stopped after a few moments: her pace wasn't very fast. She was restricted by her dress and by her shoes. The damned stays and the smoke from the cannon fire making it almost impossible to breathe. There wasn't anything she could do about that but with an impish grin she kicked off her shoes. The ground was dirty and she would probably get cuts on her feet but at least she could walk faster without her shoes on. Emboldened by this little action she pressed on. People were fleeing past her, running in the opposite direction away from the harbour.

Suddenly a house further down the road exploded. Luckily there was an alleyway to her left and she quickly threw herself in the direction avoiding most of the flying debris. Fortune smiled on her that day because at the other end of the alley was her former captor Charles Vane. She was so relieved she had actually found one of the pirates that she allowed herself a few moments of rest.

Closing her eyes briefly and trying to get her breathing under control she didn't see the red coat advancing on Captain Vane until it was almost too late. The soldier had somehow navigated himself behind Vane and was advancing on him slowly with his sword drawn. Gathering all her courage, all her will to survive Abigail grabbed the dagger tightly and ran in the direction of the soldier. She was so glad she had cast off her shoes earlier while she was quietly advancing on the soldier. Granted with all the cannon blasts going off it was unlikely he would hear her anyway. Like a small predator she crept up to her prey. It was now or never. The soldier was almost close enough to Vane. Steeling herself she leapt at the back of the soldier, clinging onto him and in one swift motion rammed the dagger into his throat.

The soldier beneath her went limp and crumbled to the floor. His throat only producing gargling sounds as his life left him. She bent down and retrieved the dagger from her first victim. The dying sounds of the soldier somehow became louder. His body desperately gasping for air, mourning the loss of his blood. Abigail realized it was because there was a momentary pause in the cannon fire.

The silence didn't last long but it was enough for Vane to hear the sounds behind him. He quickly spun around and in one swift motion raised his sword to attack whoever was standing there.


	4. Chapter 03

He could not believe his eyes. Vane blinked a couple of times but the image in front of him did not change. There was Abigale Ashe in a blood soaked blue dress holding a dagger in her left hand and lying in front of her was a dead red coat with a gaping wound in his throat.

"You! What are you doing here?" he hissed at her in a low voice taking a step towards her. "I…. he… he was going to kill you." Seeing that she was close to giving into panic he closed the remaining distance between them. He grabbed her left arm and placed his other hand on her chin forcing her to look at him. "Miss Ashe! Abigail! Look at me! Look at me and listen!" She slowly lifted her eyes to directly look at him. The dark brown eyes meeting steely blue once again, "Are you with us? Or do you want to stay?" Her face hardened at those words. "No, I cannot stay. I do not WANT to stay," was her only reply. "Alright, then listen to me. We must find Flint and make our way to the harbour. Try to keep up, be alert and we might get out of this alive." With that he looked down at the corpse at her feet and then back up to her, "But it seems you don't have a problem with that." Abigail looked at Vane and with an impish smile replied, "No it seems I don't."

Having reached some sort of agreement of which the terms had not been written, yet Vane and Abigail set off towards the harbour. Even though their conversation only lasted mere minutes the situation in the town seemed to have changed. Most of the streets now were only inhabited by the corpses of its former residents and they encountered no resistance for a while.

Suddenly a pistol went off to their right and with a push that left Abigail breathless Vane manoeuvred them into cover. Looking through a gap in the fence they had taken refugee behind, Vane saw Captain Flint on the other side of the square they had come upon. He was pinned down by two groups of soldiers. They were so close to the harbour. This was likely their last obstacle. They had to make it somehow. Neither the soldiers nor Flint had noticed them. Vane let out a sharp whistle that caught Flint's attention. Flint gave a sharp nod, acknowledging Vane. Vane turned to Abigail and relayed the situation. "We need to get through these soldiers somehow. They are blocking our access to the harbour."

Both Vane and Abigail though about their situation for a few moments, but in the end, it was Vane who came up with a solution. Abigail would shoot in the general direction of the group of soldiers to the right while Vane circled around and approach them from behind. Hopefully her shooting would distract them long enough for Vane to take care of them. They quickly gathered the pistols and rifles that were scattered about haphazardly. Most likely belonging to the dead members of the group of the soldiers that had Flint pinned down.

"Count 'til twenty and then start shooting at the soldiers. It doesn't matter if you hit any of them though that would be preferable, as long as you distract them." Vane said to her before turning around and going back to where they had originally come from.

"One. This what it…", she thought. "Two. Three. This will forever… four. Five. Forever separate me from my old life! Six. Seven." She turned to the gap. "Eight." She grabbed the first pistol. "Nine." Only a few more seconds. At the count of eighteen she started to aim. She fired her first shot as soon as she hit twenty. It went off somewhere near the group of soldiers and they soon sprang into action, unloading their rifles in her direction. She dropped to the ground and grabbed the next available fire arm – a rifle this time. She sat up, took aim and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Angrily she tossed the rifle away. This was bound to happen. Rifles and pistols were notorious for not actually firing when they were supposed to but for it to happen on her second shot ever was beyond infuriating. She quickly grabbed the next rifle, took aim and pulled the trigger. The recoil of the rifle was heavier than she expected, but one of the soldiers let out a cry. She had hit one of them. The thought made her giddy. Her maid, her father, the entire world even would be shocked at her behaviour but Abigail just smiled. Quickly she grabbed another pistol and fired in their direction – a miss. And other one that also missed. She scrambled to get the last rifle when she heard swords clashing. Captain Vane had already killed two of the soldiers and was fighting with the last one. The soldier was hopelessly outmatched and Vane dispatched of him very quickly.

After that it was easy for Flint and Vane to take care of the rest of the soldiers. It was three versus two, but the pirates had the distinct tactical advantage. The last soldier had not even hit the ground when Vane called out for Abigail, "It's safe." She speedily left their old hiding spot and was greeted by an incredulous looking Flint. "What the hell are you doing here, foolish girl?", he hissed at her. "Do you want to die?" Her only reaction, her only option was to look him square in the eye and so she did but before she could answer Vane replied, "Saved my life, and helped to save yours. She's coming with us."

After coming to her defence, Vane briskly set off down the road to the harbour. Flint and Abigail quickly went to follow him. The harbour and their ship was so close, so very close now. They had almost made it.


	5. Chapter 04

It was easy enough to commandeer one of the dozens of rowboats in the harbour but as soon as they entered it a group of soldiers that they had not noticed before started shooting at them. Abigail was crouched in the front of the boat looking back at shore. The soldiers seemed to be readying the cannons. They were going to obliterate them. Captains Flint and Vane started rowing faster and before the soldiers could fire their guns the group in the boat heard a whistle going off.

Suddenly the world around Abigail turned to hell. There were uncountable cannons firing. There was only smoke and explosions. Abigail was certain they were going to die but at least she would die a free woman. But the pain did not come and that was when she realized it was not the soldiers who had fired but it was the man-o-war they were rowing towards. The men on shore were no more. Abigail breathed a sigh of relief. They would not die today.

After a few minutes of rowing in silence, they reached the side of the ship. Flint was the first to climb up the ladder on the side of the ship if you could call it that. When they had left the ship to talk to her father Abigail had quite a lot of trouble going down it. Her lack of shoes did not make it easier this time. Vane was behind her though so if she were to fall he could maybe catch her. She finally made it to the top and Flint helped her onto the deck.

Billy Bones was there. His eyes wide in shock. "What are you doing here?" Before she could answer Billy had seen Vane and Abigail was momentarily forgotten. He immediately trained his pistol on Vane. Contrary to Billy's expectations, Flint told him to lower the pistol and to free Vane's men. "I won't hold pirates prisoner on this ship. Not after today." He turned to Vane and said, "Keep your men in line!" Vane's answer was only a curt nod. Lastly Flint turned to Abigail, before he could say anything though Vane slid in between her and Flint. "She's my responsibility, but I suggest assigning her a cabin. Wouldn't want to keep her in the hold, not with what is happening at the moment."

Flint barked out the orders to raise Charles Town to the ground and then turned to Vane and Abigail. "Follow me." He let them down into the belly of the ship and pointed to the nearest cabin. "You can have that one. Vane take care of her." Flint promptly turned on his heels and went back up on deck.

Now that the excitement of her escape was dying down, Abigail felt tired. Just so very tired. She slowly walked over to the door Vane was holding open for her. As soon as she was inside, she turned to Vane and asked him, "Did we really make it? Did we?" "Yes," was his only reply. "Oh good," she muttered almost inaudibly and promptly started to collapse as if all her strength had been sapped from her body. The dagger she was still clutching in her hand clattered to the floor. Luckily, she was falling toward Vane rather than away from him so he was able to catch her before she hit the floor.

He easily picked her up. She was even lighter than when he carried her into his fort back in Nassau despite wearing many more layers of clothes compared to then but, she had been through a lot in the past weeks. He looked around the small cabin. There wasn't much. It was mostly taken up by the bed. Flint had inadvertently assigned her a cabin meant to be shared but Vane could not care less. He deposited her on the bed. She looked very young but only if one did not focus on her blood-stained appearance. Her dress, face and hands all bore marks of her kill.

Vane was still surprised by her blood lust. He first encountered it back when he told her that Ned Low was dead. Back in her cell in the bowels of his fort and he was intrigued back then. Her actions today only added to that intrigue. She killed somebody in cold blood on her first attempt. To save him? Most men fumbled their first kill but she did not. And on top of that she even shot one of the soldiers when they were helping Flint.

Brought out of his thoughts by a small groan coming from the small form on the bed. She was coming to again. She opened her eyes and found Vane sitting on the edge of the bed looking at her with a quizzical look. She tried to sit up but instead she was wrecked with pain. Her back felt as if it were on fire. "What is it?" Vane asked.

"My back. I think I injured it in the carriage accident." Vane looked at her. The expression on his face becoming even more quizzical. "Carriage accident?" "I was in a carriage. On my way to Savannah when the cannon fire stared." She sighed heavily, "I think I was injured, but when I woke up in the carriage. I immediately ran and tried to find you or Flint."

"Why would you do that? Why would someone like you want to be with people like me?" he asked pointing first at her and then at him. "After what happened at my father's house, I realized that the so-called civilised world was no better than the uncivilized world of piracy. At least you and Captain Flint have never lied to me. My father was full of lies and deceit. He put me on that carriage to shut me up. You delivered my journal to him, and together we forced his hand. He did not like it especially not after I pointed it out to him."

After she finished speaking the only sound in the cabin was Vane's quiet laughter. "Oh, Miss Ashe, whatever are we going to do with you?" "Abigail." "What?" "Call me Abigail. Miss Ashe died in Charles Town," she said with an impish grin on her face.


	6. Chapter 05

Abigail finally realized that she was lying on the bed of the cabin. "How did I get here?", directing the question at Vane. "The shock. You fainted. You were only out for a short time. You should probably get rid of your dress unless you want to get blood everywhere." Abigail looked down at her dress and hands. She had not noticed the blood on her until Vane mentioned it. "I'll get you some water so you can clean yourself. And maybe I can find you some clothes to wear though they will probably be too large."

Captain Vane got up and made his way to the door. Looking back at Abigail he said, "You should probably lock this door once I'm gone. The men will be in high spirits and some may want to celebrate." He spat out the last word in disgust. "Only open it when I get back." Vane left the cabin and Abigail slowly made her way out of the bed. She reached the door and barred it.

Only then realized that she would need help removing her dress. "Damned stays," she thought. "They don't even allow a woman to dress herself." She looked around the cabin idly until her eyes fell upon the dagger she had stolen from the carriage driver. She bent down, not without wincing. Whatever she had done to her back, it hurt like hell. Determined she grabbed the dagger and began slicing at her dress. It was ruined beyond repair anyway.

Meanwhile, Charles was on the prowl. Despite what he told Abigail, his first task was to check up on his men. He made his way to the deck and found them all unbound. They were still mainly sitting around but at least the chains were gone. He quickly rounded them up. He told them about the truce between him and Flint, and that if anybody would put so much as a toe out of line he'd keelhaul them. A few of them glared at him, noticeably angered by the fact that they had lost control over the man-o-war but he was still their captain and none of them dared to cross him.

He started to return below deck but was cornered by Billy Bones. "What the hell, Vane? Why is she here? Did you kidnap her again?" Each question was accompanied by a shove from Billy. "Cut it Bones.", he said while pushing Billy away. "She wanted to come. Slit a man's throat in my defence. What was I supposed to do? Leave her there? She was ruined. She was, in fact, already on her way out of the city. Sent away by her daddy dearest, so polite society wouldn't have to deal with such a scandalous woman." Vane's words only angered Billy more, but this time the anger was not directed at Vane. "Fuck." "Yes, fuck indeed." Billy moved out of his way, giving Vane permission to return to Abigail. "Actually," Vane said turning back toward Billy, "I could use your help. She got injured. Was in a carriage accident. Need some water and clothes." Billy set of a brisk pace toward the hold, "Follow me."

Billy filled a pitcher with water and went by the doctor to grab some fresh bandage and some rum for the wounds they suspected she might have sustained. After that, he went to a storage bin located among the swaying hammocks. He searched through the bin. After a while he triumphantly held a shirt and a pair of trouser aloft. "Found it. Had a cabin boy a while back. Scrawny kid, ran away last time we made port. These should fit her decently enough."

Vane led the way back to Abigail. He knocked sharply on the door. "Who is it?", asked Abigail from inside. "Me." Only then he heard the door unlock and he thought to himself, a small smile on his face, _good girl_. He pushed the door open and was briefly taken aback at what greeted him. She was wearing only a shift. Nothing else. It did not leave much to the imagination. He managed to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "Got some rum and water for the wound. Billy here found you some clothes."

At the mention of Billy, Abigail looked away from Vane only noticing Billy then. "Hello again.", a small smile on her face. "Thank you for your help." She could have sworn there was a slight blush on Billy's cheeks. "You're welcome, Miss Ashe. I must go up upstairs. We're just manoeuvring into a better position to…", he trailed off, well aware that they were currently destroying her home. Abigail sent him of those impish grins Charles had already become rather fond of, "Give them hell." Billy looked at her confused for a second but gathered his wits about him and left the cabin.


	7. Chapter 06

Vane moved to close the door but he did not lock it. No need to do that with him here. "So, let me see that back of yours. Can't be that bad but we should still treat that wound." Abigail began to remove her dress. _Was she really going to remove her dress in the company of one Captain Vane? No that wouldn't do. She was far removed from her former life but getting naked in the presence of a man? But what could she do?_ She spied the blanket that was covering the bed. "Give me a moment! Turn around! Don't look!" Vane's only response was to chuckle.

She stripped off her shift as quickly as possible. Kicking the dirty garment to the side, she grabbed the blanket off the bed and wound it around her shoulders, holding it close in the front. "Alright, I'm ready." Vane turned around, once again breathless for just a moment. This was worse than seeing her in that shift. The blanket was wrapped around her, exposing a naked shoulder and she was half turned toward him looking at him with tired eyes.

Aware that he was staring, Vane lowered his eyes and quickly set to work. "Sit at the edge of the bed, and let me take a look." Abigail sat down with her back to him. Vane pulled the blanket that was covering her back lower. She had a long, deep cut that went from below her ribs on the left all the way to the top of her right shoulder. "Christ! Abigail! That is going to need stitches!" She twisted to look at him, "Is it really that bad?" Vane stood up quickly and was already half way to the door. "Yes. You need the doctor!" He made to open the door when she quietly said: "I want you to do it." _That woman was going to be the death of him._ "It ain't gonna look pretty." And he set off to the doctor again to grab needle and yarn.

He returned within a few minutes and found Abigail still sitting on the bed. She only seemed to startle awake when he closed the door. She quickly spun around, holding the blanket around her with one hand, the other brandishing the dagger. Vane raised his hands. "It's just me." "Thank you," she said. "I normally would not mind the doctor. We had a few nice chats on the way here, but I would rather wear clothes when I meet him again." Vane looked at her incredulously, "Nice chats?" "Yes," she replied and patted the bed next to her. Motioning for him to sit and tend to her back. "Otherwise I would not have felt compelled to write what I wrote in my journal. The crew was always decent to me on my way here."

"This is going to sting," were the only words he said to her when he got started on tending to the wound. He first cleaned it using the water he brought. His tanned hands in stark contrast to her white skin. _She is going to get so many sunburns_ , was a stray thought that entered his head while he was working away.

Abigail was lost in thought. She thought of her mother and what she would think of her. _Abigail, now would you look at that. You've torn another dress. One of the last things her mother had said to her before she had fallen ill. What would her father think? His prized daughter naked, alone in a cabin with the feared pirate Charles Vane touching her._ She chuckled. "What is so funny," Vane asked. "I was just picturing my father's face if he were to see this." "I see," was Vane's only answer.

At this point, he had cleaned the wound as best as possible. It was time for the rum. "Abigail? The wound needs alcohol before I can stitch it up. You should drink some of it, too" he suggested, thrusting the bottle towards her hands. She moved to grab the bottle but realized she was still holding the dagger. She leaned forward and placed the dagger on the floor next to the bed. Moving made her back feel as if it were on fire. She gladly reached for the rum. It was not her favourite drink by far but it would help with the pain. She steeled herself. She had only had it a couple of times on the voyage to Charles Town when it was uncommonly cold at night. She gulped down three mouthfuls before lowering the bottle and thrusting it back towards Vane. She shuddered from the taste of the rum but a welcomed warmth started spreading from her centre immediately. "I'm ready."

Vane quickly poured the rum over her back. She winced several times but managed to not cry out. There was a little bit of rum left in the bottle and Vane drank it quickly. Steeling himself for the task ahead. He had done his fair bit of stitching up people but it was always a strange feeling. He promptly got to work. Abigail had to bite down on the blanket to keep herself from crying out in pain.

When Vane was about halfway done the cannons started again. Their roar deafening, Vane finished up as quickly as possible. Once he was done stitching up the wound, he grabbed the long bandage he had brought. He tapped Abigail on the shoulder and when she had turned around he motioned at her that he wanted to warp the wound up. She understood quickly and grabbed the bandage from him to wind it around her front. He crossed the bandage on her back and passed it back to her. Another crossing in the front and he tied it on her back.

He got up while she pulled the blanket back up to her shoulders. She was looking at him so he pointed at her clothes and yelled "Get dressed!". He promptly turned around, briefly asking himself when he had become so chivalrous. Making sure that he kept his back turned, Abigail grabbed the shirt and trousers. The shirt was a bit tight around her chest because of the bandage but not overly so. The trousers on the other hand were too wide. She saw that Vane had brought some rope to secure the trousers and so she did. Once she was done, she could not help but smile. _She was wearing trousers and it felt so freeing._

She tapped Vane on the arm and he turned toward her. The cannons were still pounding on the town but in a brief silence due to the reloading of the cannons, Abigail said "I'm going to lie down. If I stay on my feet for one more second I fear you may have to pick me off the floor again." She moved to the bed and put the blanket back on it before crawling under the covers. Despite the thunderous cannons still going off around them, she was out within seconds.

Vane was unsure what to do. He should go, help the crew on deck, but he was exhausted himself. He had not slept since the night before they had boarded the man-o-war. "Fuck it," he thought, "A few hours won't kill me." He took off his boots. He briefly thought about sleeping on the floor rather than the bed but the comfort of the bed won out in the end. He grabbed the dagger he was keeping in his boot and crawled on the bed. He carefully placed the hand grabbing the dagger under his pillow. This was after all not his ship and someone on Flint's crew might still want to harm him despite Flint's instructions. He closed his eyes. His only intention was to lightly rest a while before joining the other men, but his body too gladly accepted the comfort of the bed.

And so, Vane and Abigail slept during the rest of the burning of Charles Town. They didn't wake until Flint came barrelling into their cabin in the middle of the night.


	8. Chapter 07

Both Vane and Abby woke with a start. Vane immediately sprang into a fighting stance brandishing his dagger at the attacker. "What the hell is going on here?", Flint barked into the room. It took Vane a few moments to calm down again. "Christ Flint, you couldn't have knocked maybe?" Flint's only response was to grab Vane by the neck and slam him into the wooden wall behind him. "This is my ship. I don't fucking knock."

Both were startled out of their anger with a polite cough from Abigail. "Ahem, I think we owe Captain Flint a few explanations. Is there somewhere we can talk more comfortably?" Flint and Vane straightened and looked at each. Without a word Flint turned around and led them to the deserted mess. It was the middle of the night. Everybody but the night watch was asleep. Flint gestured for them to sit down. "Talk."

And so, Abigail talked. She told him of her conversation with her father just before he had left for the execution. How she was to be tucked away on a small plantation near Savannah to await her wedding that her father had hastily arranged. It had cost him a pretty penny and the only husband he could find was an aging small-time plantation owner. But in her father's eyes this was what was best for her and society. She recapped what happened to her carriage and how she had set off to find them. At her dispassionate retelling of the soldier's death, "I saw a soldier advancing on Captain Vane but he had not noticed him, so I dealt with it.", Flint raised an eyebrow.

She told him everything, ending with telling him how she had fallen asleep amidst the cannon fire. Flint then turned to Vane, "So what the fuck were you doing in her bed?". "Oh, that is what this is all about.", Vane replied. "I was sleeping. Hadn't slept in a while, couldn't resist the temptation of a clean bed."

Flint turned back to Abigail, "So he didn't abduct you again? You came willingly?" Abigail's only answer was, "Yes." "Alright. You can stay the cabin." Flint looked at Vane again, "Your men are leading us to where you hid you ship. We should be there shortly." Flint and Vane made ready to leave, but Abigail was not done, yet. Another polite cough stopped both men in their tracks. "Captain Flint, thank you for your hospitality, but I should like to leave with Captain Vane." Vane was shocked. "You, what? Why?"

Abigail motioned for them to sit down again. "Captain Flint and his crew have been nothing but kind to me." She looked directly into Flint's eyes, "Thank you once again, but it is not kindness that I need right now. If I am to survive in this world that I have chosen I need guidance. I'm afraid that most of your men, Captain Flint, and you even, would perceive me like you did on the way here. The Miss Ashe that sailed with you from Charles Town is not me anymore."

Flint looked from Vane to Abigail and back, "I can't tell you what to do. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into girl. I will see you on deck. We should reach "The Ranger" momentarily." Flint made his way out of the mess hall. Vane's eyes were boring holes into her. He was judging her. The silence was only interrupted by the cheering of Vane's men. It seemed they had pulled up alongside his old ship. "We best get going," was all Vane said.

They both started making their way on deck when Abigail suddenly remember her dagger. She did not know why but she wanted to take it with her. It was her own little prize from this day. "I'll be right back," she said to Vane and darted back to her cabin. The dagger was right where she left it next to the bed. She grabbed it, tucked it into her makeshift belt and set off to join Vane's crew on deck.

Vane and Flint exchanged a few short words while Vane's crew began transferring over to the Ranger. Soon it was only her and Vane left. Before she could make her way, she was stopped by Billy. "So, you're going with him?" "Yes." He looked at her, his expression puzzled. "Why, Miss Ashe? We treated you well here. There's not guarantee with his lot." "Because I am no longer Miss Ashe. Thank you for your help. I shall see you in Nassau." She gave him a brief hug which left Billy speechless and boarded the Ranger.

Vane was not far behind and soon the man-o-war cast off. The ship around her sprang to life. Vane and the quartermaster were giving orders, men shouting at each other while unfurling the sails. Abigail was momentarily forgotten. She kept out of the way and watched the men around her work.


	9. Chapter 08

The _Ranger_ was under way soon. They had only limited supplies on board since they had banked on taking the man-o-war so it was decided that they were to return to Nassau to resupply for now.

By now, it was starting to get light and Abigail's exhaustion was back. She had managed a few hours of sleep earlier of course but it was not nearly enough to make her feel rested. She had already sat down earlier, leaning the left side of her body against the staircase leading up to the poopdeck, but now her eyes started to drift close. She tried to keep them open but sleep claimed her within a few minutes.

 _This was what Vane liked most about being a pirate. Well, besides the plunder. Being out in the open sea, just him, this ship and its crew. The sound of the ship cutting through the water, the wood of the ship creaking and groaning. The sails flapping in the wind. He was still disappointed that his men couldn't keep control over the man-o-war but at the same time, he was happy to be back on his Ranger._

He looked around for Abigail. He and his crew had fallen back into their assigned jobs so quickly, that their newest member had been forgotten for a while. It took a while to locate her but he finally found her nestled against the staircase leading to the poopdeck. She seemed to be sleeping. Charles quietly chuckled to himself. He was not needed on deck so he turned to his quartermaster and said, "I'll be in the cabin if you need me." He made his way over to Abigail and gently shook her awake. "Hhmh," was Abigail's only answer. "Come on. I'll show you somewhere more comfortable to sleep." Half-asleep Abigail rose to her feet and let herself be led into the captain's cabin.

Out of tired eyes Abigail spied the bed. The sheets and blanket still tangled up from the last time Vane had slept in them. Helped by Vane she made her way over to the bed and sat on the edge. She remembered the dagger tucked away in her belt and pulled it out. She looked at it for a few moments with a small smile on her face and then gently placed it on the floor next to the bed. Not realizing that Vane was closely watching her. He was intrigued by her, no, more than that he realized. He wanted to know more about her, how she came to be this way. _Why was she here? No sensible woman would voluntarily board his ship._

Abigail turned around and crawled onto the bed. Still not aware that Vane was watching her. He looked like a predator stalking his kill. She slid in between the mattress and blanket, and laid her head on the pillow. Vane's scent was all around her. He smelled of rum, the sea, cigar smoke and something uniquely him. Somehow that scent was a comfort to her. She sighed contently and muttered, "You should get some sleep as well, Captain."

Her muttering broke his predatory musings and he made his way over to the bed. Just like Abigail he was still rather exhausted and he gladly took this opportunity to rest more.

And so, Vane and Abigail shared a bed for the second time this day. They both slept until early afternoon. Abigail was the first to wake. She was terribly hungry. It had almost been a full day since she had eaten anything. The second thing she became aware of was how thirsty she was. She had some rum during the night but that was it. She was desperate for some water.

The third thing she became acutely aware of, was the body she found herself next to. She fought to keep still and to keep her breathing under control. It seemed like Vane was still asleep for the moment. Somehow, they had ended up tangled together. He was lying on his back and her head was resting on his chest, her body pressed against him. _Oh, he smells so good_ was an unbidden thought that she found herself thinking, but she slowly extracted herself from him and made her way out of the bed. Vane's only reaction was to roll over on his side. His arm moving around the area she had been lying in as if it were searching for her. Abigail sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Vane's sleeping form. She had never seen him so relaxed. Involuntarily her hand moved to stroke his face but she stopped herself before she made contact.

She pulled herself together. She would think on this later, why she wanted to touch him. She would analyse this warm feeling that spread through her chest when she watched him sleep, but now she was desperate for some food and water.


	10. Chapter 09

She rounded the bed and gingerly bent down to pick up the dagger she had placed on the floor. She slipped it into its place at her belt. She did not want to face the men outside without being armed at least a little bit. She knew she probably should not face them without the captain but that would either mean waiting for him to wake up or to force him to wake up, and she did not want to do either.

She opened the door and stepped out onto the quarterdeck. She quietly closed the door behind her and surveyed the deck. The sailor manning the wheel turned around at the sound of the door opening and closing, realizing that she was not the captain he gave a curt nod and turned back to his task.

Abigail slowly approached the man, careful to stay in his field of vision. "Hello. I… uhm… Captain Vane is still asleep but I am very hungry and thirsty. Could you point me in the direct of the mess perhaps?" The sailor looked at her, "You're the lass we stole from Ned Low, aren't you? What'cha doing back 'ere?" "I suppose you could say I ran away. I helped Captains Vane and Flint escape from Charles Town. I… ," she trailed off. The soldier mustered her from head to toe. His eyes came to rest on the dagger neatly tucked into her belt. "What'cha wearing the dagger for? Where did'cha get that anyway?" his expression grew more playful? "Didn't do the captain in, did ya?" "I… what.. no! Why would I do that? He rescued me," Abigail exclaimed. True the captain had first kidnapped her before helping her escape and she should be angry at him for that, but the thought of harming him made her feel sick to her stomach. The sailor's only response was to chuckle.

"Wait a moment, lass," he said, turning away from her. "Oy, Jimmy get over here," he yelled waving at somebody further down the deck. The sailor, Jimmy, quickly came over. "What is it?" The sailor at the wheel, who still had not told Abigail his name said, "Take 'er to the mess to get some grub." Before Jimmy and Abigail could leave, the sailor at the wheel grabbed Jimmy's arm and hissed at him in a threatening voice, "Don't fucking touch 'er. She's the Captain's." Jimmy acknowledged the threat with a quick nod. "Follow me, miss."

Abigail fell into step beside him. "You can call me Abigail. Pleasure to meet you." The social customs of polite society still too ingrained in her. Jimmy just looked at her confused. Abigail could not help it and burst out laughing. "Just call me Abigail, alright?"

Jimmy quickly led her to the mess. It was mostly deserted and the cook was busy preparing the dinner meal. After explaining how she came to be here and how long it had been since she had eaten, the cook quickly prepared her a plate of bread, meat and cheese as well as an orange for dessert and a whole pitcher of water. Abigail quickly wolfed everything down, managing to empty the entire pitcher of water as well. She would probably get a stomach ache later but it felt so good to finally have a filled belly again. Jimmy had left her alone in the middle of the meal. "I trust you can find your way back?" Her only reply was a nod.

When she was done, she returned plate and pitcher to the cook who took them with a toothless grin, "Hungry, were ya?" Abigail smiled back at the cook and answered, "Positively starving really." She made to leave but then remembered the captain. He was sure to be hungry as well. She turned back to the cook and asked him, "Could you prepare some food and drink for the captain as well? I'm sure he will want some once he wakes up." The cook gave her a calculating look, "The captain's are ya?" Abigail shook her head, "No. Nobody owns me. I am here because I wanted to be." The cook started preparing the food and drink for the captain. While doing so he kept up his conversation with Abigail, "So who are ya?" Her only answer was, "Abigail." "Just Abigail. No last name?" Abigail shook her head. "No, not anymore." The cook gave her another small smile, "Alright, Miss Abigail. I'm Sam the Cook." "A pleasure to make your acquaintance," replied Abigail, giving him a dramatic courtesy. She had almost forgotten about her injury but the movement aggravated her injury once. Abigail grimaced in pain. "What's the matter lass," Sam asked, concerned for her. "Just an injury I go in Charles Town. I'll be fine," giving him a small reassuring smile.

Sam handed over the provisions for the captain. It was the same he had fed Abigail but he also included some wine. "You sure you can carry all of that, lass?" Abigail nodded and muttered a quick, "Thank you." She slowly made her way back onto the deck which was easier said than done. She was carrying a plate, a bottle of wine and another pitcher of water. Eventually she made it back to the quarterdeck, only spilling a bit of the water in the process. Giving the sailor at the wheel a quick smile, she went back inside the captain's cabin. She expected to find him awake but contrary to her expectations he was still asleep. Still in the same position she had left him. On his side, his hand searching for something.

She gently set the provisions on the table. She was still thirsty so she poured herself a bit of the wine but diluted it with water. She was not tired enough to go back to bed so instead she looked around the cabin. It was simple enough. There was the bed, the huge table she had set the provisions on and the captain's chair. She spied some books on the bookshelf and made her way over there. She ran her hand along the spines of the book, stopping when she encountered a copy of _Don Quixote_. It was one of her favourites. She pulled the book off the shelf and looked for a suitable reading space. There was the captain's chair but she would not dare sit in it. In the end, she settled on one of the window alcoves behind the chair, but in full view of the bed. She propped herself up using pillows so she could lean back somewhat without aggravating her back injury.


	11. Chapter 10

It was another couple of hours before the figure on the bed stirred. Charles woke with a groan. He realized two things quickly, the bed next to him was empty and he had the distinct feeling of being watched. He turned around and found Abigail tucked away in the alcove behind his chair, holding a book in one hand and a cup in the other. His groan had alerted her that he was awake and she was looking at him with a smile on her face. "Good morning, well afternoon. I hope you slept well. There is some food and drink on the table. I thought you might be hungry."

Charles was ravenous. He had not eaten in God knows how long, but that was momentarily forgotten when it dawned on him what this meant. Abigail had ventured out on the ship by herself and somehow had managed to return without any harm. He had not enlightened his crew as to why Abigail was here. He did not really know himself. He wanted to address the crew before allowing her to roam the ship. _He'd fucking kill if anybody decided to touch her_.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair. "You went to the mess to get me some food," he asked while walking over to the table. His mouth watered at the sight of the meal and before he could stop himself he was chewing on the piece of bread she had brought. Abigail closed the book after taking note where she was in the story and then looked up at the captain with a small smile. "Well, first I went to get something to eat for myself but I thought I would bring some for you." Charles poured himself a cup of wine. He briefly thought about settling down in the captain's chair but instead he grabbed his cup and plate, and joined her on the alcove seat. He ate in silence quickly devouring the food she had brought. He was still hungry but this would be enough until dinner.

He went to refill his cup but not before grabbing hers. She looked up at him, grateful, "Just a bit of wine, with water please." The wine the cook had given her was far too strong for her taste but drinking it helped a bit with the pain in her back. He looked at her incredulously. She was practically ruining this rather exquisite wine but he did as she asked. He went back to the alcove seat and both sat in silence for a while. _The silence was not awkward, quite the contrary,_ Charles realized. _He actually enjoyed her company. Regardless, he needed to talk to her_.

"So..," he started, just as she began speaking, "Captain…". She motioned for him to go first. He took a drink from his cup and started again, "So, you thought it an idea to go out there and face my crew alone, …" Before he could finish his sentence, she stopped him by placing a hand on his arm, or rather on his bracer. _He suddenly wished she had actually touched his skin and not just the bracer. Fuck, he was in trouble._ He ran the other hand through his hair again.

"I was positively starving and I did not want to wake you. You looked like you needed to sleep. The man on the wheel, Jimmy and Sam were kind enough to help me." He looked up at her, "Kind, Abigail?" He shook his head, "I still don't understand what you see in us." Abigail giggled, she could not help it. "The way I see it, Captain, all of you are just flesh and bone, just like me or my father or the King. We are all just humans, with vices and virtues." She sipped at her cup and continued, "They all seemed to think that I belonged to you."

He thought about her statement for a while. _It made sense. He had brought her back on board, and taken her straight to his cabin._ "We both know that this is not the case, but maybe we should let the men believe this for a while. It makes your position on this ship a lot safer. Do you understand?" "I understand," she informed him, and they fell into silence again. Her hand still resting on his bracer. His eyes wandered to the book she was reading. "Don Quixote?" "Oh, yes," she beamed at him. "It is one of my favorites." He finished his wine and stood up. "I need to see to my men. I will meet you for dinner."

At this precise moment, the ship's bell rang to signal eight bells. The dinner for the first dog watch was to be served in two hours. He moved away from her. Well aware that her hand slowly slipped off his bracer and briefly touched his fingers before coming to rest at her side again. He quickly left the cabin before he could come up with another reason to stay longer.


	12. Chapter 11

Abigail spent the next hour or so reading her book. Even though she had propped herself up using all the available pillows, her back was starting to hurt. She slowly got up and gathered up the plate and pitcher from their afternoon meal. She carefully made her way out of the captain's cabin. She was momentarily blinded by the sun but her eyes adjusted quickly. She looked around and spotted the Captain on the deck above her, in a deep conversation with his quartermaster. Both pointing at the main mast several times. Feeling safe by knowing where the captain was, she made her way over to the hatch and down to the mess once again.

The mess was filled with sailors this time. All eagerly awaiting the meal even though it still would be another hour or so before it was served. Many of them looked at her when she entered. Abigail was momentarily taken aback and stopped dead in her tracks. She swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat and let her eyes roam around the room. She spied Jimmy and the sailor that had been manning the wheel in one of the groups and gave them a wave. Both nodded at her and she continued. Witnessing the brief exchange, the men in the room went back to their conversations. Many of them focussing on what happened to Charles Town. It seems Flint had laid waste to the entire town. _Her father was most likely dead_ , but the thought did not fill her with sadness. She was still too angry at him for allowing Lady Hamilton to die.

Abigail shook her head and approached the cook. "Hello again. Thank you for feeding us earlier. I've come to return these." Sam grinned at her, "Ah lass. Thank ye kindly. I trust the food was well received," the cook answered, giving her a bow. Abigail could not help but laugh at his antics. "Yes, we both were really very hungry. Truth be told," she winked at him, "I am already hungry again." The grin on Sam's face became even wider, "Oh lass, I like you. I suppose, I should get back to the food. Wouldn't want you to start chewing on me just because your dinner was late!"

Abigail went back on deck but did not go back into the captain's cabin. The fresh breeze on deck felt heavenly. She could not help but look for the captain again. He was still talking to the quartermaster. Abigail was acutely aware that she was staring but she was powerless to stop it.

Charles felt eyes on him again. His eyes searched the deck below him. It did not take him long to find her. She was leaning against the railing and openly staring at him. As soon as she realized she had been found out, she spun around and trained her eyes on the horizon.

Without missing a beat, Charles went back to the conversation he was having with his quartermaster. Apparently, he had discovered that a large area of the hull was suffering from worm rot. They would have to careen the ship before setting out from Nassau again.

Abigail was breathing heavily. _Oh no, he had seen her staring. But more importantly, why had she been staring?_ Abigail spent a few minutes calming down. It would be easy to just enjoy the scenery around her. The ocean was beautiful. The ship creaking, a rather comforting sound by now. But this Abigail did not back down. She was honest and would face whatever happened to her head on.

She conjured up one specific imagine in her head: Captain Vane sleeping on the bed. She could not stop herself from smiling. And then she remembered what it was like to wake up next to him. She had to grip the railing harder, had to anchor herself in the here and now some way. Waking up next to him, smelling him, feeling his hard body alongside her. Just the thought was sending shivers down her spine.

 _Oh, good Lord, was she falling for him? No, this was different. Different to the childish crushes she had back in London. Where she had dreamt of marriage and children, but left out all the details. She still did not know much about what went on in a marriage bed. Her education in the subject decidedly lacklustre but she was aware of how his body felt so different from hers. Hard where hers was soft. How she perfectly fit against him. His chest the perfect pillow for her head. No_ , she decided _, she was past falling for him. Her heart was already his._ _It must have happened sometime in the last two days but she could not pinpoint the exact moment in time he won her heart. She just had to accept that he did._ _Truth be told, the revelation shocked her a lot_. _He was so much older. He was a pirate captain. The things he must have already seen and done._ She briefly wondered, _how many women he had been with already._ The thought bringing a red-hot blush to her cheeks. She turned her face to the wind, hoping for some relief. By society's standard she was a pirate now. She had killed an English soldier in the defence of a pirate, but a part of her was still an innocent eighteen-year-old girl that had never even kissed a man.

She was startled out of her reverie by the ship's bell signalling dinner time. She turned away from the railing to go over where the Captain was before. She was not looking where she was going and barrelled straight into the Captain. His hands reached out to steady her before he could help himself. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Forgive me Captain. I wasn't looking where I was going." He chuckled, "That much is obvious." He let go of her and began walking toward the hatch that would lead them to the mess. "Follow me."

The both grabbed dinner from the cook. Sam winking at Abigail, handing her portion over accompanied by a dramatic, "Dinner is served, m'lady." The captain looked incredulously from Abigail to the cook and back. She was smiling at the cook and took the offered plate with a small, "Thank you, Sam." Jealousy roared in his chest. He did not show it but this shocked him. _He wanted her to look at him like that._

He snapped out of his thoughts and led her over to a table. They were both very hungry again so they spent most of the meal in silence, stealing glances at each other when the other one was not looking.


	13. Chapter 12

After dinner, they made their way back to the captain's cabin. _Charles knew that he really should assign her a sleeping spot but he had slept so much better with her in his bed. He was not ready to give that up, if ever._

He closed the door behind them and told her, "I have some work to catch up on, but tomorrow we talk." She nodded in answer, "Yes, I suppose we should. If you don't mind I should like to spend the rest of the day reading. I'm still tired." She moved to the alcove and grabbed her book but she did not sit down. Instead, she moved over to the bed. Just like before she removed the dagger from her make-shift belt and placed it on the floor.

What happened next almost made his heart burst out of his chest. She crawled back into his bed, willingly, and came to rest on her stomach. The book propped up on the pillow. "Hhmh, this won't do. It's too dark to read." She looked back at him, "Would you mind terribly to light the lantern? I'm afraid I can't reach it." Wordlessly he complied with her request. _Oh, he was so very fucked._

Once he had lit the lantern close to the bed, Abigail turned to him and said, "Thank you, Captain." His only answer was, "Call me, Charles." _Oh yes, he was fucked, but he wanted to hear her say it._

Abigail was shocked. _Had he really just said that?_ She briefly looked down and gathered all her courage. She did not know where this would lead but at this moment, but she did not want anything more than find out. She looked back up at the: _No, Charles, she reminded herself_ , "Thank you, Charles." She quickly turned back to her book, too afraid what would come out her bold move. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest.

 _She actually said it. She said it and something stirred within him._ With one last look, he walked over to his chair and set down. He tried to busy himself with the work needing to be done. The winds had changed earlier and they would have to take a different route back to Nassau. He could not help himself and every once in a while, he stole a glance at Abigail in his bed. _She looked like she belonged right there._ Without realizing it, he stopped moving his pen across the page and stared at his writings, lost in thought.

 _Up until this moment, he was certain that he loved Eleanor. Looking at Abigail however and the feelings she awoke in him, he was not so sure anymore. He wanted to protect her, make her happy. Just wanted to hear her say, "Thank you, Charles" again. It was never like this with Eleanor. There was always a conflict between them, trying to best each other but not with Abigail. She had impressed him, back in the fort. Her reaction to how he had killed Low and seeing through his questions. In time, she would make a formidable partner. A small part of him knew that he should not pursue this, but if he were one thing it was a pirate. He would take what he wanted. If she let him._ Satisfied that he had dealt with this situation, he went back to his work.

 _As soon as she said it, Abigail knew that things between them had changed. The atmosphere in the cabin shifted slightly but she did not feel afraid or threatened. She was still so very_ _comfortable in his bed, surrounded by his scent. She knew that he kept looking at her, but she was too tired to deal with this entirely foreign situation tonight._ So instead, she focused on her book and was soon lost in the story.

After about an hour, she found her eyes closing out of their own volition. She tried to fight against it but knew better. She still needed to catch up on sleep, not just because of the past few days. She had not gotten restful sleep since before she was abducted. She barely managed to close the book, before her head came to rest on the pillow. Her body finally surrendering to sleep.

Charles' concentration was disturbed by small sounds coming from the bed. Abigail was snoring. He looked at her for a moment and could not help but chuckle. He was half way across the cabin before he realized what he was doing. He did not stop himself though. Gingerly he took the book from her and drew the blanket over her sleeping form. The days were getting hotter the closer they got to Nassau but the nights on the ocean were still chilly. He doused the lantern by the bed and noticed that a stray strand of her had fallen across her face. Gently he brushed it out of the way, a small smile on his face.

He walked back to his desk and placed the book on it. He was tired as well but there were still duties to attend to. He doused the rest of the lanterns and quietly made his way out of the cabin. He had to discuss course corrections and other matters with the evening watch.

Several hours later, he made his way back to the cabin. Everything was taken care off and they had planned out their schedule for the next days. They would enjoy two days of shore leave in Nassau and then would careen the ship. It needed extensive work.

He closed the door behind him, careful to not disturb the sleeping figure in his bed. He was momentarily taken aback. She looked so very young but he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself. He kicked off his boots and settled on the bed. He ended up on his side, looking at her sleeping form. _He was so fucked but he didn't really care._

He was almost asleep when she moved. He was fully awake again though when she came to a stop. She was still asleep but had moulded her body against his, her back to his chest, her behind so close to his crotch. _He would not take advantage of her without clearing things between them first but it seemed that at least Abigail's body wanted what he did and to be honest, he couldn't wait to fuck her._ The only thing to do right now though, was sleep. He wrapped his arm around her and despite his expectations, he fell asleep quickly.


	14. Chapter 13

Abigail woke up feeling rested. Her back was still hurting but she felt refreshed. She must have slept for a very long time. The bed beside her was empty, Charles probably already attending to his duties. _Using his given name so freely in her thoughts made her giddy._ She sat up, grinning. She looked around the cabin. Charles was not inside. She was slightly disappointed but then her eyes came to rest on the food on the table.

Quickly she made her way over, she was starving again. Abigail reached for the food when her eyes came to rest on the note she found next to it.

 _Abigail,_

 _Find me when you're done!_

 _~ Charles_

 _Short and to the point. He was like that._ She quickly wolfed down her breakfast and gulped down several cups of water again. Considering the amount of water she had consumed with her breakfast, she assumed that she was still somewhat dehydrated. She needed to remember to take care of herself if she wanted to survive whatever life had in store for her.

Abigail breathed in deeply for several times before opening the door and stepping onto the deck. The sun was already high in the sky. She suspected that she may have slept more than twelve hours. She closed the door behind her and set off to find Charles. She did not have to search for long. He was up in the rigging inspecting something. She patiently waited until he was back on deck until she approached him.

Charles instructed the crew member that had been up in the rigging with him and send him on his way. Only then he focussed on Abigail standing before him. She was still wearing the clothes Bones had given her and her long brown hair was a mess but she still took his breath away. Before he could get lost just looking at her, he motioned for her to follow him. He led her to the stern of the deck and shooed away the few crew members that were lounging about.

Abigail watched Charles sit down on a crate. It was time to talk. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and before Charles could address her, she sat down on the crate next to him. Charles was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He was alternating from looking at his hands to her. It was a long time before he spoke, "You saved me. Thank you. There is a place here for you if you want it." He realized he was not actually addressing this thing between them, and annoyed at himself he ran his hand through his hair. "Look," he said, "I'm not a nice man. I don't do this…" He stood up frustrated. _This was so fucking stupid. What the hell was he trying to accomplish?_ He walked over to the railing and leaned on it.

Abigail was so happy when she heard his words. She could stay right here, with him. But she could sense he was agitated and was not surprised when he moved away moments later. _She wanted this_ , she realized. _She could not bear to be separated from him. The mere thought paining her. She wanted more, much more. That was when she realized that she had made her choice. She would stay here, with the pirates, with HIM._

She walked over to where Charles was and gently touched his arm. Charles could not help but move into her touch. He twisted around and came to stand in front of her. He raised his hand and cupped her cheek in his hand, "Abigail," he said with a small smile on his face. She cleared her throat and looked him straight in the eyes. "Charles, I…," she trailed off, her eyes boring into his soul. He could see desire in them. He bent his head, his mouth coming to rest next to her ear. "I can't wait to have you later," he whispered into her ear.

A small squeak escaped Abigail's mouth. Her inside had turned to mush in reaction to his statement. He moved his head back and looked directly at her again. Instead of turning away and hiding herself, she moved her head forward. An unseen force compelling her to kiss him.

Charles immediately responded to her kiss. He wrapped his arms around her. She felt so tiny compared to him, yet they fit perfectly together. He deepened their kiss, coaxing her lips open with his tongue. He could tell she was inexperienced but she was eager, moving her body ever closer to his.

He could have kissed her forever but they were interrupted by the lookout yelling, "Sails. Directly south."


	15. Chapter 14

"I…", he started but she had already released him. "Go," she said and he did, but not before placing another quick kiss on her lips.

Abigail took a few minutes to compose herself. _The kiss, well kisses really, were so exquisite. She was disappointed that they had been interrupted. There was a fire burning in her belly and she did not know what to do about it. But maybe later, Charles could…_ At that thought, a small moan escaped her lips. "No," she chided herself, "pull yourself together." She pinched herself and that seemed to help a little.

She turned around and her eyes once again looked for him. He was conversing with his quartermaster and the bosun, holding a spyglass in his hands. She saw all of them nod in agreement and then Charles motioned for her to come over.

"What is it? What's happening?", she asked as soon as she reached him. Surprisingly, he handed her the spyglass and pointed in the direction of the sails they had spotted. She looked through the spyglass. It took her a few moments to find the ship. It seemed fairly small. It also did not seem to be going very fast. "A prize for the taking," Charles said, standing behind her. Abigail lowered the spyglass and twisted around, still trapped between Charles and the railing. She did not say anything but instead smiled at him.

It took several hours for the _Ranger_ to catch up with the other ship. The fight she had been waiting for never occurred. She obviously was not ready to jump into the fray but she had been looking forward to watching and learning, but instead the merchant surrendered before even one shot had been fired. All it took, was raising the black.

By evening, they had transferred all valuable cargo onto their ship along with two men who had willingly joined their crew. They had been read the articles of agreement and were taken on the account. Within an hour they were on their way again, sailing ever closer to Nassau.

Charles and Abigail joined the crew in the mess for a late dinner. Spirits were high and the rum was flowing freely. The prize they had taken was mostly rum and the merchant's trading profits of the past few weeks. Several of the crew members had taken out their instruments and were leading the men in the merry making. Abigail looked around her and realized that she was happy. Charles was sitting next to her deep in conversation with a crew member. She took a sip of her drink and leaned closer to him. A content sigh escaped her lips.

She looked up at him when his arm came to rest around her shoulders. His steely blue eyes were looking directly into her soul. Wordlessly she stood up and began leading him up to the captain's cabin. His crew jeered at the sight of them but he only had eyes for her.

Her courage left her after he closed the door behind them. _What had she been thinking? She had no idea how to proceed._ She let go of his hand and nervously wrought her hands. Charles was confused for a moment before he realized what was going on. "Abigail," he said, taking her hands in his, "Abigail." He pulled her into a hug, slowly stroking her back, careful to avoid her wound. "Don't be afraid," he murmured into her ear. "I won't hurt you." "I'm not afraid, not really. I just don't know what to do," she replied, glad that he was still cradling her against his chest. She was certain she was blushing from head to toe.

He had forgotten for a while that she had been a Lord's daughter. Even though she had only been with him for a few days, it felt as if she had been by his side forever. "They didn't tell you? What happens between a man and a woman," he asked her, already knowing the answer. _Of course, they hadn't. Fucking pricks._ Abigail could only shake her head.

He gripped her tighter, angry at the people who had not prepared her for the world. "Don't be embarrassed. I'll show you." Just like before Abigail could not find words so she only nodded. Her face still buried in his chest.

Charles felt desire coursing through him. He would show her but she would call the shots. He held her for a long time, waiting for her breathing to slow and giving her enough time to put her embarrassment behind her. He would not bed her tonight even though he desired it, but that did not mean that they could not do something.

Finally, Abigail lifted her head and looked at him, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have..." His reaction was to silence her with a kiss. Abigail was surprised but within seconds that fire in her belly was back and she found her arms wrapped around him tightly. Charles walked her back slowly until her legs hit the bed. He gently sat her down and started to remove his boots, making a mental note to procure some clothes and shoes for her once they had landed in Nassau.

Before Abigail knew what she was doing, she was crawling to her side of the bed. Once there, she looked up at him. _Charles was unable to resist her. The look in her eyes full of desire. Oh, what carnal pleasures he would show her. Normally he was not one for bedding virgins but this was his Abigail. He would gladly make an exception for her._

He joined her on the bed. He gently took her in his arms again and in the end, both came to rest on their side, facing each other. He leaned in to kiss her again and Abigail gladly accepted. They spent much of the night just by being together. No clothes were shed but it was still the most intimate night Charles had ever spent with somebody.


	16. Chapter 15

They had only fallen asleep just before dawn but Charles was too used to life on board and was woken by the ship's bell. It was almost time for the morning watch to begin. Even though he had not gotten much sleep he knew it was no use trying to get back to sleep. Abigail was once again draped over his body. Her head on his chest, a leg flung over his.

As much as he wanted to stay, his body had different needs for now. He slowly began extracting himself from Abigail but failed in not disturbing her. She woke up with a groan of protest and clutched Charles tighter. "Where you goin'," was all he could hear. He kissed her on the head and promptly got up. No need to be careful now that she was awake. "Time to get up."

She mumbled her response into the mattress and he could not make out a word. Suddenly though he was stricken from behind. _He could not believe it! She had thrown a pillow at him. At him! He was one of the world's most notorious pirate captains and she started a pillow fight with him._

Abigail was worried. He was taking entirely too long to respond. She did not know why she had thrown the pillow and was berating herself for it. She started to scramble out of bed and was rushing to apologize when she realized that Charles was laughing. He was, in fact, laughing so hard he had to support himself on the table.

A few moments later, he spun around and stalked in Abigail's direction. He was advancing on her fast and there was nowhere for her to go. He grabbed her and the kiss that followed left her breathless. Suddenly she was hoisted up in the air by him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and their kissing intensified. Charles turned them towards the wall and pressed Abigail against it. As soon as he had done that, Abigail winced loudly. _FUCK! For a moment he had forgotten about her back_. He backed away from the wall and let her down, "Fuck, sorry. Got distracted, somebody threw a pillow at me." Abigail had to laugh despite the pain. She looked up at him and stroked his cheek. He had been intimidating that first time she had talked to him in her cell which had not been that long ago. But now she just knew she would never have to fear anything from him. He rested his forehead against hers and they stood like that for a while.

Charles was the first to speak, "The bandages need changing. Wait here." He squeezed her hand briefly before quickly walking out the door. He took a little detour to relieve himself on the way to the doctor's but he was soon back in the cabin. The sight that greeted him upon his return almost made him drop the supplies. Abigail had surprised him once again. She had removed her shirt and the bandages while he was gone. She also had apparently grabbed her book and was back in bed, lying on her stomach already drawn into the story. He could not even see her breasts, just the creamy white skin on her back and sides. But his arousal was back threefold and he wanted nothing more than to touch her.

He made his way over to the bed. Abigail had been alerted to his presence through the closing of the door and she smiled up at him. He sat down next to her, "I'll clean and redress it. It'll probably hurt." Abigail closed her book and rested her head on his thigh, "I can take it."

And so, Charles got to work. The wound looked horrific but there was no sign of infection. They would be able to take the stitches out in a few days. Abigail stayed quiet during the treatment but considering how hard she was gripping his leg she must have been in quite a lot of pain. When he was finally done, Abigail stayed in position for a little longer. Cleaning the wound had hurt a lot and lying close to Charles made her feel much better.

Unfortunately, she could not lie here all-day long. Not that she had anything to do but Charles was surely needed. Abigail sat up and reached for the new bandage. She started wrapping the bandage around her but Charles's hands stopped her arms from covering her breasts. She raised her head to look at him but Charles gaze was drawn to her breasts. In this moment he wanted nothing more than to touch them, but he would not do so without her permission so for now he just looked, the image searing itself into his brain.

 _Even though it was an accident, she did not mind showing herself to him. In fact, the opposite was true,_ she realized _. She wanted him to see all of her. The way he looked at her made her feel powerful._ After what felt like forever, he finally released her arms and helped her wrap the bandage around herself.

Before he could get up, Abigail climbed into his lap. She grabbed his head in her hands and gave him a big kiss. "Thank you," she said before giving him another kiss. "I never formally accepted so yes, please, I'd like very much to stay," she continued. "I'm afraid I don't know much about sailing or fighting but I'm sure I could be useful somehow… ," she trailed off. Charles pulled her closer and mumbled, "You are useful. After all, you already saved the Captain once."

"Though," he said, straightening up, "teaching you to fight is a good idea. It would be foolish to think you won't ever need it." Their tender moment over for now, Abigail climbed off Charles' lap and proceeded to put her shirt back on, tucking it securely into her trousers. Charles got up from the bed and moved to the door. "Food first. Let's go."

They made their way to the mess hall where everybody but the night's watch had already assembled. The morning shift was quickly wolfing down their breakfast before they were needed on deck. The other shifts taking more time, slowly waking up. The room got noticeably quieter when Charles and Abigail entered, and Charles decided that this time was as good as any to inform the crew that Abigail would be staying. "Listen up," he yelled, immediately commanding the attention of everybody in the room, "This is Abigail. Saved my life, as such I offered her a place on the crew and she accepted. Some of you may remember her from before, forget about that. And if you fuck with her, you're dead."

Charles was ushering her towards the food, when Sam the Cook spoke up, "But Captain, she 'asn't been read the Articles of Agreement, yet." With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, Sam turned to Abigail and continued, "We 'ave to make sure that the lass knows how to behave, too. Isn't that right, boys?" The entire mess hall broke out in raucous laughter. Charles shook his head in defeat. "You're lucky you're a good cook, Sam." He turned to face his crew and shouted, "Alright, alright. Let's get it over with."

Abigail was swept up in the excitement of the moment and was grinning from ear to ear while Charles recited the Articles. At the end, he made her swear to adhere to the code or fear the punishments listed therein. The crew had calmed down by the time Charles and Abigail had finished and they were finally able to eat their breakfast.


	17. Chapter 16

Once Charles and Abigail's hunger was finally sated, they made their way back on deck. Before they could say a word, the Ranger's Quartermaster came over. "Cap'n, do you have a moment? We really ought to discuss the work the ship needs." Charles looked around for a moment, not answering his Quartermaster right away. He quickly found who he was looking for and yelled, "Williamson!" Only then he looked at his Quartermaster and said, "Yes. One moment."

Abigail recognized Williamson. He was the sailor who was manning the wheel the day before and helped her out. He came to stand in front of them and addressed Charles with a nod of his head, "Cap'n." "Show her around, explain things. She needs to learn." Williamson's only response was, "Aye, Cap'n." Charles focused all his attention on Abigail next, "He will show you around. Get to know the ship, it's now your home. Later, I will teach you how to use that knife of yours properly." Abigail nodded and turned to Williamson, "Hello, again."

Charles and the Quartermaster disappeared into the Captain's cabin, leaving Abigail and the sailor outside. Abigail spoke before Williamson could, "Before we go, I should like to know your name. I can't call you Williamson." It was the last thing Williamson expected her to say but he gladly offered his name, "Ben's the name, but maybe we should stick to Mr. Williamson, Miss Abigail." Abigail could not help but laugh, "No, please. Abigail. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ben."

And so, Ben and Abigail made their way around the ship. He showed her around the cargo hold, the storage rooms and where the doctor could be found. They briefly stopped by the mess hall. Abigail, of course, already knew where it was but it was on the way so they had a short chat with Sam who was taking inventory of their stores.

They finally made their way on deck and Ben was in his element. He lectured her about the ship but also told her of his life. Abigail learnt that he used to sail with a merchant ship out of England but had turned pirate after the merchant ship had been attacked. By that time, Ben had been working on that ship for almost two years, yet had not received any wages. _No wonder he had turned pirate_ , Abigail thought. _At least, this way he would actually get paid. She had seen men in the same position on her voyage from England. Pressed into service, receiving little or no wages. It was something the captain on the ship had boasted about when she and her governess had dined with him._

Abigail was startled out of her musings by Ben, "You think you're ready to go up?" Abigail looked at him confused for a second but then saw he was pointing up at the rigging. She let her eyes wander all the way to the topmast and imagined what it would be like up there, so high above the ocean. She focused her eyes back on Ben, "I can at least try, right?"

Ben had already started climbing up. But as soon as Abigail raised her arms to grab the rope, she knew she was not ready to go up. Moving her arms over her head made her wince in pain. Ben, alerted by her pained noises, immediately came back down and looked at her with concern, "What is it?" Abigail grabbed the railing and let it support her weight for a while. After a few moments the pain receded and she turned her head to look at Ben again. "I injured my back in Charleston. I'm sorry but I don't think I'm fit to climb the rigging any time soon," Abigail said apologetically.

Ben came to stand next to her and looked at her for a while, gathering courage to ask the questions that were burning in his mind, "What happened to you, miss? Last I remember you left the fort with that bitch…," he stopped himself and cleared his throat, "Apologies, miss." He accompanied his apology with a curt nod. Abigail just laughed at him, "Please, Ben. No apology necessary. I have heard much worse. Do go on!"

And Ben did. "So, last I know you left the fort and sailed away with Flint to join your father. Why are you here? Why are you with the cap'n?" Ben's confusion was evident on his face and Abigail could do nothing but laugh at his face. She took a few seconds to compose herself and then answered Ben, "You know what happened in Charleston? I mean, the murder of Lady Hamilton and the arrest of Captain Flint. I was right there when it happened."

Tears welled up in her eyes as recalled the events of the evening. _Miranda had not deserved to die._ She closed her eyes briefly, willing the tears to go away. "It wasn't right and my father did nothing to stop it or to punish it. The opposite, really. He wanted to hang Flint who had come unarmed into his house to talk about peace. At the same time, he had already schemed to send me away, to force me to get married. That was all I ever was good for, really, and after having spent time with pirates… Well, I believe he referred to me as damaged goods when he told me of his decision." The longer Abigail talked the angrier she got. "There was nothing I could do to change it and in the end, I complied with his decision. I was on a carriage when the cannon fire started. It spooked the horses and the carriage crashed. It was then I got injured. Instead of waiting to be rescued, I rescued myself and through sheer luck I found the Captain. As he told you, I saved his life. I…, "she swallowed hard, "I killed a soldier that was advancing on the Captain. I couldn't stay after that, now could I?" Ben took a long hard look at the woman next to him and lastly, he nodded. He understood her too well, forced into situations without regard to her wishes and powerless to stop them.

"Aye, you couldn't."


	18. Chapter 17

Ben and Abigail stood near the railing for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. They were startled out of there reverie by the bosun who landed next to them after jumping from the rigging above them, "You done here? Need your help up in the rigging, Williamson."

Ben had done as the captain had asked so he went on to help the bosun, and Abigail once again found herself alone. Charles still had not emerged from the cabin and everybody around her was busy. She was restless, itching for something to do, when she remembered Sam. He might need help doing inventory. Glad that she had thought of something to do, Abigail returned to the kitchen's store room. She smiled when she found him, counting their supply of oranges. "Kitchen's closed," were the only words that Sam uttered, not realizing it was Abigail who had come to stand next to him. She gave a polite cough, causing Sam to turn his head in her direction, and said, "I was wondering if you might need help."

Sam smiled brightly at her, "Oh lass, apologies. But yes, yes please, I could do with another set of 'ands!" Abigail sighed with relief. She had found something to occupy herself with. She immediately went to work, counting supplies, checking for rotten food and marking off numbers, correcting them when needed.

After what felt like hours, Charles was finally done discussing things with his quartermaster. They had made lists of the supplies they needed for fixing the ship and decided on a suitable place for careening the ship. It would take them a week or more to get the ship into shape again. The rot was even more extensive than they had first thought. But now it was time for Abigail's lesson and thus he set off to find her.

She was nowhere to be seen on deck and he could spot Williamson up in the rigging assisting his bosun. He called Williamson down and enquired about Abigail's whereabouts. Williamson suggested the mess hall, thinking that Abigail had maybe decided to help the cook taking inventory.

Charles made his way down to the store room. He found Abigail and Sam working together, their silence only broken by a few words recounting what each had taken inventory of. They had not noticed him so he savoured the opportunity to watch her work. He could tell that Sam was already completely enamoured by her. She had that effect on people. He had noticed it on Flint's ship, the crew oddly protective of her.

But he knew the fierce warrior that lay beneath. He had seen it, twice. First in the fort in Nassau and then in Charleston. The image of her, in the bloody blue dress with the dagger in her hand, was burnt into his head. She was a survivor and he was sure that she would do well here.

He made his way over to them, his footfalls heavy and loud on the wooden floor. Both looked up at him and a smile lit up Abigail's face when she realized it was him. Sam greeted him with a nod and a, "Cap'n." Charles returned the nod and then focused on Abigail. "I see you found something to do," he commented on her work. She smiled up at him and explained that Williamson had been called away by the bosun, how they had encountered Sam doing inventory earlier and that she had thought that some help would surely be appreciated.

"We're almost done 'ere, Cap'n, so if you need the lass…," Sam interjected, addressing Charles. He then turned to Abigail and thanked her for her help, "You have saved me 'ours of work. Thank ye, lass." Charles motioned for Abigail to follow him and started on the way back on deck. Before Abigail followed, she bid farewell to Sam for now, "It was my pleasure. I'd be glad to help again."


	19. Chapter 18

Charles led her back to the captain's cabin. Once she had closed the door behind them and before she could say anything, he spoke, "Show me that dagger of yours." Abigail slowly pulled it out of her makeshift belt, careful to not nick the rope holding up her trouser and presented it to him hilt first. Charles took the offered blade and carefully studied it, weighing it in his hand, "Decent blade. Where did you get it?"

"I took it off the carriage driver. He died in the crash and I don't know why but I needed the reassurance of a weapon. I tried taking his sword but it was too heavy so I took this," she recounted the story for him. "I'm glad I took it," she continued, sending a smile his way. He returned her smile with one of his smirks, "As am I."

He moved over to the table and put the dagger down. He pointed to the bed, "Sit down." Abigail followed his request and once she was seated, Charles started speaking. "It will be a long time before you will stand a chance in a fight. Everybody on this ship could easily overpower you. For now, you must focus on getting out of a fight. Keep your dagger with you always and use it defensively. Stab the person that is attacking you and then get away. Find me or a crew member or hide in a crowded place. Do you understand?" Abigail nodded.

"Good," Charles continued, "Never try to stab somebody in the chest. The blade will deflect off their ribs. Focus on throat or gut, the thigh if you can't get to the other two places. If your opponent is male, a swift kick to their genitals can be effective. Got it?" Abigail nodded again.

"You can keep the dagger on your belt but you should also carry a smaller knife in your boot. We will get clothes and weapons for you once we have reached Nassau. Come here. Let us run through what I just told you." Abigail got up and stood near him. He resumed talking, "We will slowly go through what I just told you. I'm going to grab you and you react." Abigail nodded a third time.

Charles came to stand next to her and wrapped his arms around her, carefully minding not to touch her back. For a moment Abigail was lost in his arms, but she regained control of her senses. _This was not a lover's embrace. He was teaching her and she better pay attention._ She did her best trying to ascertain where the weak spots were and made a stabbing motion. The ran through more scenarios as the minutes went by.

By the end, Abigail's back was hurting again, the motions aggravating her wound. She held up her hands, "Please, no more for today. My back hurts." Charles took a few steps back and nodded. He moved over to the table and poured both of them some wine. "Drink this. It'll help with the pain," he said as he held out the cup for her to take. Even though the wine was too strong for her, she gladly accepted. Her back smarting more by the second. She muttered a quick, "Thank you", before taking a big gulp. She could not help but shudder when she the bitter taste of the wine hit her tongue causing Charles to laugh at her antics. She smiled back at him and explained, "I never liked red wine. Too bitter for my taste."

"How much longer before we get back to Nassau," she asked, while retrieving her book from the table. She had moved back to her reading spot behind the captain's chair before he answered, "If the winds stay favourable, we should be there in ten days' time give or take a couple of days."

Abigail had settled back into her reading spot before she remembered that she had wanted to ask him something. "Charles, do you have a comb by any chance," she asked, sitting back up, "I got startled by my own appearance earlier when I saw my reflection in one of Sam's cooking pots." Charles chuckled slightly at her admission but once again, he wordlessly fulfilled her request.

Abigail gladly took the offered comb from his hands and got to work on her hair. It really was a mess she realized and started tugging at the comb harder. She winced as the comb finally pulled free from her hair. Her back was preventing her from even doing this mundane activity. Frustrated, she lowered her hands. He looked up at him, "Thank you, but it seems this is another activity that my back currently dislikes."

Charles held out his hand expectantly and Abigail handed the comb over, a quizzical look on her face. Charles motioned for her to make space for him on the alcove seat and he came to rest behind her. Gently, he began running the comb through her hair. Starting at the bottom and slowly working out all the knots. With a sigh Abigail rested her head on his knee. She pulled the book toward her. "Have you ever read Don Quixote," she asked, opening the book. He chuckled, "No. I don't much care for stories." She squeezed his leg and continued, "I've always loved stories, ever since I learned to read. I'd take a book from the library and hide for hours at a time." She smiled, fondly remembering the times where she had managed to stay hidden until well after dinner time. Before she could stop herself, she was telling Charles of such an occasion, "One time, incidentally it was the time I first got my hands on this very book, I hid so well they found me asleep in the middle of the night. The entire house was in turmoil, looking for me. I had disappeared straight after breakfast and just got so lost in the story that I forgot to eat. My mother was so relieved when they found me hiding in the attic. She made me promise never to hide again and I didn't until after she died only five weeks later…, " Abigail trailed off, her mother's death still saddening her even ten years later. She was glad that Charles did not ask any questions. He was just quietly combing her hair.

Ah while later, she picked up where their conversation had stopped, "So, if you don't like stories, why do you have all these books here?" Charles laughed, pausing his ministrations for a moment, "They belonged to the former captain. Normally we sell them, but we haven't gotten around to it, yet." A quiet, "Oh.", was Abigail's only reaction. She did not see the need to comment further though Charles was half expecting her to do it.

She eventually broke the silence but instead of the expected questions or accusations she began reading from the book in her lap. Starting at the beginning of the book, sharing the story with Charles. After a few sentences, Charles started combing her hair again, losing himself in the moment and his thoughts.

 _He had seen Jack and Anne at this before. Jack lovingly combing her hair in the quiet hours of the morning, most of the camp around them asleep. Charles had not understood until this very moment why Jack was so fond of it, but now he knew._ A contended sigh escaped his lips before he could stop himself. The sound caused Abigail to stop her reading for a moment. She pressed a quick kiss to his knee and kept on reading.

They only realized how much time had passed when the dinner bell rang. Abigail closed the book with a quiet thud but Charles was not quite done: His deft fingers braiding her long, brown hair, tying the end with one of the many leather straps he had wrapped around his wrists. Abigail waited until he was done and twisted around. Kneeling before him, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. A whispered, "Thank you" passed from her lips, almost touching his. Charles was powerless to resist her. With a groan, he pressed his lips against hers again, wrapping his arms around her lower back and pulling her towards him. Abigail was equally powerless to resist him, her body pressing itself close to his.

When Charles and Abigail finally made it to the mess hall, dinner for the first shift was almost over. The mess hall deserted, ready and waiting for the next shift's dinner. They opted to take the food back to the cabin instead of eating in the mess hall. Both still craving more of the intimacy they had shared.

They settled back in the alcove and ate their food in silence. For now, they both just enjoyed being with each other. Abigail made herself comfortable in his arms after finishing the food, placing her ear directly on the place where his heart resided. Contentedly she closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat.

Charles once again found himself deep in thought: _It had never been like this with Eleanor. Deep down he had craved these feelings, and sometimes for a few fleeting moments he had been able to convince himself that it was what she wanted, too. Fighting, united, together against the outside world that was threatening to take their life. But she never did and she showed it to him, time and time again. Eleanor always wanted what was best for her, and only her. It was different with the tiny creature that had come to rest in his arms tonight. She ignited feelings in him that he had not thought possible. He was not one to settle down, not now not ever. He needed to roam, but he knew that from now on he needed her by his side._


	20. Chapter 19

**Content Warning:** Mentions of child death and miscarriages. Also gross wounds.

Abigail quickly settled into ship's life, much quicker than she had anticipated. She had not been assigned to a specific shift or job, but could be seen helping out wherever she could. At first, the crew were weary, women on ships were after all supposed to bring bad luck, but just like Charles predicted and just like it had happened with Flint's crew, she captured the men one by one. It helped that she did not shy away from hard work like they had expected her to.

And so, it came that seven days into their journey south, Abigail found herself assisting the doctor. The winds had freshened up and there was a storm rolling in from the west. They were trying to outrun the storm for now so Charles had called all hands in the early hours of the morning.

The doctor had found her on deck, staying out of the men's way but watching, observing, learning. The wind had pulled strands of her hair out of her braid and was whipping them around her face, the ship rolling in the waves. She had turned her sun-kissed face into the wind and closed her eyes for a few moments when the doctor interrupted her, "Abigail, I need your help. Everybody else is busy."

She quickly followed him into the ship's hold and down to where his only patient was. Johnson had gotten wounded when Flint's crew had taken back the man-o-war. She had seen him a few times she had been down here herself, but he had been unconscious. The wound he had sustained was severe and he was one step away from death's door as the doctor had put it.

Before the doctor moved to open the door, he turned to Abigail, "This isn't gonna be pretty and it's going to fucking stink. His wound is festering and needs cleaning. Try to prepare yourself."

When she entered the little cabin where the patient was lying, the stench made her heave. It was assaulting her senses. She had only ever once smelled something this horrid. She quickly ran out of the cabin, breathing in the fresher air in the hold. The stench however would not leave, rather it intensified now that the door to the cabin was open. Somehow, she managed not to vomit, but the dry heaves continued for a moment. She fought to regain control, after all the doctor needed her.

The wound was on the crew man's left thigh and look gruesome indeed. Originally a deep stab wound, it was now a festering mess. Pus flowing freely now that the bandages had been removed and Abigail could have sworn that she had seen a few tiny maggots wriggling in the flesh. Her stomach threatening to empty itself again, she briefly turned away again.

Finally, she was able to regain her composure, her stomach settling on nauseated but not quite ready to get rid of its contents, and she looked to the doctor, "What do you need me to do?" He handed her a bottle of rum and said, "Feed that to him for now. The more the better. He might be unconscious now but he will wake up when we get started." She uncorked the bottle and took a sip herself before getting to work, thankful for the liquid courage it offered.

She slowly fed him half the bottle before he would take no more, turning away his head and groaning. "Right, best get to it," said the doctor, while she was corking the bottle and placing it back where it had rested before. "Even in his weakened state, he will most likely overpower you. Pain does that to a man, "he continued, coming to stand next to her. "Do you think you can stomach removing the pus, while I hold him down?"

Abigail nodded, not trusting herself to speak out loud. She was, in fact, not sure if she could handle it, not at all. The situation reminded her too much of what happened to her mother. Her mother had, of course, not been stabbed by a sword but the smell was the same. She did not mention any of this to the doctor, not wanting to appear weak, still trying to impress the crew that had taken her in.

But there was no way to stall the doctor any longer. He had bent over the man's torso, firmly holding him down with his arms so Abigail began to work at the wound. The doctor had given her an ample supply of linen to catch the pus with but they soon were all soaked through. She briefly wondered how so much liquid could fit in there. The man on the cot had almost thrown the doctor off him when Abigail began but the rum had done the trick and he had calmed down somewhat. He was still groaning in pain but not thrashing about. At long last, the flow of pus finally stopped. The doctor instructed her to rinse the wound out with alcohol and wrap a new bandage around the sailor's thigh.

He thanked her profusely when they were done but she didn't hear any of it. Instead, she quietly excused herself and made her way into the captain's cabin, unnoticed by the men on deck.

It was eerily cold in the cabin, but Abigail could not tell if it was the air or the thoughts that plagued her. She shivered and moved over to the bed. With a fierce tug she grabbed the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her, trying to get warm. The wine from last night was still on the table and she poured herself half a cup before settling in the alcove spot, the blanket shielding her from the outside world but the long buried memories of her mother's death were still haunting her.

It was here where Charles found her hours later. They had managed to outrun the storm and exhausted, the crew had made their way down to the mess hall, but Abigail was nowhere to be found. His concern growing by the minutes, Charles had quickly made his way to the cabin, desperately hoping to find her there. He almost overlooked the tiny bundle in the alcove seat, shrouded by the falling darkness.

He called out her name, once, twice but she only reacted on the third call. The sadness in her eyes almost made his heart explode. He quickly made his way over to her and kneeled before her, her dark brown eyes looking down at him. He gently raised one hand to her face, caressing her cheek, "What happened?" She did not register that he had spoken, only the concern, the warmth in his eyes was what mattered. She needed it. Desperately. So, she came to rest before him on her knees and wrapped her arms around him.

Abigail slowly felt warmth returning to her body, relishing the fact that she was in his arms. It was not what she had seen and done with the doctor that had shocked her, rather it was memories. Memories she had buried long ago, but that smell had brought them back.

Charles was worried. _This was not like Abigail. She had been remarkably strong throughout her ordeal that turned her entire world upside down. Whatever had done this to her, whoever had done it, would pay,_ he swore to himself. But to do that he needed answers. He moved one of his hands that had been cradling her back to the side of her face. He stroked it once, gently, but then forced her to look at him, "Abigail, what the fuck happened?" The words came out more forcefully than he had intended but they seemed to bring Abigail back into the moment.

Abigail drew in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes for a few moments. Her voice was quiet but steady when she spoke, "I'm unharmed. Nothing happened. It's just memories." Charles drew her back into a full embrace, silently offering comfort. He did not know what had happened to her, what to say to make it better, but he could be there for her. Give her his strength.

Abigail felt incredibly vulnerable but also so very protected in his embrace. Generally, she was not one to feel sorry for herself, but what happened down in the hold had triggered the memories associated with her mother's death. It was then when her father had all but withdrawn for her life. Still sharing the town house in London with her, but not seeing her for days, weeks even. Leaving her in the care of her maid and governess.

She slowly started feeling more and more like herself. It was then that she realized how tightly Charles was clutching her. It dawned on her that she must've been a frightful sight. She looked up at him and placed one hand on his cheek, his beard gently scratching her palm. His steely blue eyes, narrowed and full of questions looked at her, but he made no sound, waiting instead for her to offer answers.

Slightly embarrassed by her actions, Abigail gladly offered up the answers, "The doctor came to me earlier today, to help with Johnson's wound." Charles's eyes narrowed even further when he heard this, his brow furrowing. Johnson's wound was ugly and most likely would kill him. It the wound had been any lower on his leg, they would have amputated it days ago but it was too close to the hip. No wonder that Abigail was disturbed. His line of thought was disrupted when Abigail once again caressed his cheek.

He was surprised when she continued talking, "It was gruesome. I don't know how he is still alive, but I was glad to help. The smell though, it made me remember things. Things that I had almost forgotten. I was so small when it happened." Charles's grip on her tightened again. "What happened," his voice a low, gravely growl. _He would punish anybody that hurt her._

"You asked once, if my father loved me. I was seven years old when my mother died. When she died, our entire family fell apart. His love died the day she left us. He still felt responsible for me, of course, and made sure I wouldn't want for anything but his heart was dead."

She sat up a little straighter, her inner strength returning, before she continued, "I used to have an older brother. He was two years older than me and he died to a fever when I was one year old. My mother had it as well but survived, weakened but alive. My father was desperate for a male heir after my brother's death. After all, he needed somebody to carry on the title. From what I remember of my mother she was always with child but none of them survived. Some she lost just after a few weeks of finding out, but some stayed inside for months, almost making it. During these pregnancies my parents were happy and hopeful, so I was, too."

She paused for a few moments, closing her eyes. She kept them closed, when she continued talking, "Did you know that sometimes those ones live? For a while? Tiny children. So fragile. They scream and scream, until their energy is spent." A few silent tears rolled down her face, when she opened her eyes again. "Her last child lived for almost a day. I didn't see it, but I could hear it. I had hidden at the opposite end of the house, but it just wouldn't stop screaming. Something went wrong with the delivery. My mother developed an infection, but nobody told me. They just said she was weak and needed rest. A week after the child had died, I had become desperate to see my mother so I snuck out of my room in the middle of the night to see her. It was the smell that hit me first, the same smell from earlier. Her belly was bloated as if she were still pregnant. Her body pale and her eyes closed. I approached her, just desperate to hear her voice again but when I touched her hand it was cold. She had died some hours earlier, alone."

Charles's hand came up to her face, gently wiping away the tears that still rolled down her face. She was not done speaking though, "I went back to my room and never told anybody that I had seen her. They did not tell me until the afternoon. By then my father had already left on a business trip. The next three years he kept his distance, only ever speaking a few words to me. He left for Charles Town when I was ten."

The more Charles heard, the angrier he got. He wanted to kill her father, over and over again, for what he had done to her. Taking away her mother and leaving her all alone. He wanted to strike out, to hurt somebody, to find a way to channel this rage inside of him.

Abigail's voice was barely above a whisper but it was enough to snap Charles back to the here and now, "Thank you for listening. I've never told anybody." She was all that mattered right now and she needed him. He grabbed her tightly and lifted her off the floor. With swift strides he made his way over to the bed and laid her gently on the mattress. He briefly let her go to take off his boots and then wrapped his arms around her.

Abigail fell asleep quickly in his arms but sleep remained elusive for Charles.

 _What happened tonight had shocked him to the core. Not the treatment of Abigail by her father. Such things happened all the time, and they were one of the reasons he had turned towards piracy. No, what had shocked him was his reaction. The violent outburst of emotion when he thought something had happened to her. There was now no doubt in his mind that he loved her. He was well and truly fucked._


	21. Chapter 20

Abigail woke up before dawn, still wrapped in his arms. He was still sleeping and she sighed contentedly before remembering last night. She was embarrassed at letting her feelings get the best of her, but it had felt good to share it with another, with him in particular.

She looked up at his face. Studied it intensely. He looked younger when he was asleep. The lines on his face smoothed by sleep but she knew the fierce persona that rested next to her. He was a warrior. He took what he wanted without apology. When it mattered he was loyal to the bone and he was not afraid to risk his life. She also knew how gentle he could be. She remembered how he had carried her to bed last night. Her heart wept when she recalled the intense look in his eyes. And she knew it was him or no other, for now and forever. She would fight by his side for however long she could.

Before she could stop herself, she gave him a gentle kiss. His eyes flew open and with a groan, he clutched her tighter, deepening the kiss. Abigail could not help but moan. His kisses were so intense, stoking the fire in her belly. Frantically she ran her hands over his body, needing to be closer to him. But it was not enough. She did not know why but she needed to feel his skin. She yanked his shirt out of his trousers and ran her hands up his back, savouring the feeling of his skin under her fingers. His skin was so warm and it felt so good to touch him.

She was shocked at her own forwardness. Her actions were going against everything she had been told time and time again. By all accounts, what she was doing right now was sinful and bad and not befitting a lady, but truthfully, that was not her anymore. They had seen to that. So instead of stopping, she let herself be swept up by the moment. It was too late to resist him anyway.

She surprised him. AGAIN. When they started kissing, he never expected her to reach under his shirt. He would have her eventually and that day could not come soon enough, but he had not expected to proceed there this fast. But she seemed to languish in touching him if her moans where anything to go by, and Charles would not withhold something that was so clearly requested. He let go of her for a second and raised himself up.

Abigail opened her eyes in confusion. The heavy weight on top of her suddenly gone. Abigail could not believe what Charles was doing. He was grinning at her and unceremoniously removed his shirt. Her eyes grew wide at the side of his naked chest. She had felt it while resting on it, of course, and she had seen some of the other pirates' naked torsos, but she had always shily looked away.

Not this time though. This was for her and she feasted on the sight above her. He was devilishly handsome, especially with that smirk grazing his features. With time she would map and memorize every little bit of his body, but right now she did not know where to look first. She reached out to him and he gladly came back into her arms.

Abigail was growing slightly frustrated the longer they continued. It was still not enough. She needed more, so much more. She tried pressing herself closer to him, but they were as close as they could possibly be. Charles's face was currently buried in her neck, doing unspeakable things to her. She had never felt this way. This undefinable need to be with him. Her body had never known such bliss and such frustration at the same time.

She raised her arms and lightly pushed Charles away from her. He detached himself from her neck with a groan. He figured he had gone too fast too soon and staying true to his word he would not push, but he soon figured out that this was not what Abigail had in mind at all. As soon as he had given her enough space to move her arms, she hastily went about removing her own shirt.

He lowered himself back down and kissed her senseless. The skin to skin contact driving them both mad. Abigail could not tell where she ended and he began. She was trapped in a world of bliss. All coherent thought left her brain when his mouth found her breasts. Gently suckling and biting them, until he finally took one nipple in his mouth. She could not stop making noises. Her hips involuntarily started moving, seeking him out.

Charles was amazed at her responsiveness to him. He was close to release just from making her fall apart underneath him. He decided to push her further and moved his left hand down between her legs and a loud gasp escaped her lips. He applied light pressure, just giving her a surface to grind on, and once again focused his mouth on her nipple.

Abigail's hips involuntarily started moving again. She had dimly registered the foreign object between her legs as his hand. It had caused her to briefly stop, shocked at feeling his hand in such a private region of her body. But the pressure he applied simultaneously sated and stoked the throbbing in her lower body. She could not think; only focus on the pleasure he was bringing her. Suddenly, her entire body stiffened, a guttural moan escaping her lips. Wave over wave, pleasure was crashing through her body. Her back arched, she drew in one more shuddering breath, before all strength left her body. She fell back on the bed exhausted. Her body's need temporarily sated. Whatever Charles had done to her, it had been amazing.

Sleepily she tried to open her eyes but her body was too relaxed after what just transpired and within seconds she succumbed to sleep.


	22. Chapter 21

_She did not know why but Abigail was looking forward to Nassau. By all means, she should not, it was after all where she had been kept prisoner._

She spent the last day on board at the bow of the ship, not taking her eyes off the town and the fort she had left under much different circumstances earlier in the year. After they had finally anchored in the bay, the crew were busy preparing the boats to take them ashore. Charles joined Abigail who still could not look away from what waited ashore, and came to stand behind her.

"Welcome to Nassau," he said in a slightly sarcastic voice, bending down, his mouth coming to a stop next to her ear. Abigail twisted around and greeted him with a grin. When she spoke, it was in a slightly teasing tone, "Thank you, Captain." Her words were accompanied by an exaggerated curtsey and he could not help but laugh.

"The boats are ready," he spoke and led her to the ladder that would take her down into the boat. He went down first and she quickly scrambled after him. Soon the boat was full and they began rowing toward the jetty.

Abigail did not know where to look first. Of course, Nassau had all the dealings of a normal town, but its inhabitants were far more diverse than what Abigail was used to. Then there were the countless tents that lined the beach. Charles had told her that each crew had a camp on the beach. He and his crew had one, too before they took over the fort. The closer they got, the more sounds reached her ear. Animals squealing, the waves crashing on shore and so many different people talking in all sorts of languages.

Charles's eyes instead were drawn to two figures standing on the jetty, seemingly waiting for them. Seeing Jack and Anne waiting for them like that, could not bode well he figured. Abigail noticed his tension and twisted her head around until the spied what had gripped his attention. Two people, a man and a woman, were quite obviously waiting for them. The man garishly dressed, the woman with long, red hair and a hat drawn deep into her face.

As soon as they stepped foot on the jetty, the man spoke, "There have been… several developments. We need to talk, Charles." Jack started turning away from them, no doubt wanting to lead them somewhere private, but stopped dead when he saw Abigail coming to stand next to Charles. Jack looked from Abigail to Charles and back, a puzzled look on his face. "What is this now?", he asked, looking quizzically at Charles. Charles's only answer was to give him a light shove, growling out at low, "Not here, Jack."

Jack lead them towards the brothel, Charles following him closely. Anne however had fallen into step next to Abigail and was giving her frequent side glances. She did not say anything but Abigail was certain the red-headed woman next to her was watching her like a hawk.

They finally settled in one of the upstairs rooms in the brothel. Abigail's eyes had nearly fallen out when they had crossed the main room of the brothel. Drunken men groping half naked women, their breasts bared to the world. Men singing and stumbling about. She was shocked, never having seen such scandalous behaviour in the open before, but it also reignited that fire in her belly that Charles had been stoking in the past days.

Jack poured them all a drink and motioned for them to sit. Charles and Abigail sat down across from Jack, but Anne preferred to stay back and lean against the wall, carefully watching all of them. "Care to explain this", Jack asked, pointing at Abigail. Charles laughed under his breath and leaned back in his chair. He winked at Abigail briefly and introduced her, "Abigail Ashe meet Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny."

As soon as Jack heard her name spoken, he slammed his drink on the table and started pacing around the room. "Christ, Charles, have you gone insane? Why would you bring her back here? Surely her father will be looking for her." Before Charles could answer, Abigail spoke, "He won't." Both Jack's and Anne's eyes were suddenly looking at her, measuring her. "And do tell, why do you think that?", Jack spat back at her, clearly angered by the situation. Abigail sat up straighter and looked at him directly, her gaze furiously burning into his, "Because he's dead." "As is most of Charles Town," Charles interjected. "I take it Flint hasn't returned, yet?" Jack shook his head, "No, nobody has heard from him since he left in that man-o-war."

Wearily, Jack sat back down, "What exactly happened in Charles Town?" And so, Charles filled him in on everything. How Flint's truce had not worked out, how he captured the man-o-war and his men had lost it, and how he, Flint and Abigail had escaped the town. When he told them about what Abigail had done in Charles Town and why she was here, Jack only commented with a short, "I see." It was clear that he had many more questions but he would stay them for now. Anne however sent Abigail a brief smile and Abigail could not help but feel that she just made a new ally.

"So, what is going on here that has you so concerned," Charles asked after taking a deep drink from his ale. Jack looked at him with raised eyebrows, pointing once again at Abigail, "You sure you want to do this with her here?" Charles nodded, "She knows what I know." Jack's eyebrows could not possibly rise any higher on his face after hearing that statement and Abigail had to stifle a giggle at his dumbfounded look. Jack's eyes snapped back to her, the measuring look in his eyes returning.

"Several things have happened since you left," Jack started. "The Urca gold was lost. The Spanish came back before we returned. They had over 200 men on the beach and two ships guarding the bay. We were hopelessly outmatched." Charles raised on his eyebrows in response, "Please, tell me you didn't attempt to fight them." Jack shook his head once, "Of course not. We returned to Nassau, only to find out that Miss Guthrie had disappeared." Hearing that it was Charles's turn to raise his eyebrows, "Eleanor is gone? That does not seem like her." Jack nodded in agreement, "Indeed. That is what we thought. Hence, we did some investigating. Turns out it was Hornigold who took her. Gave her to the English in exchange for pardons for him and his men. Traitorous bastard that he is. She's on her way to England as we speak. She is furious at you, by the way. For the little stunt you pulled with her father." Jack paused briefly and drank some ale, "Max, of all people, has taken over Eleanor's affairs. We have taken residence in the fort, started clearing it but Flint really did a number on it. We need supplies and manpower to repair it and fast. The bay is vulnerable without it."

Charles nodded in agreement. The fort was sorely needed especially after what Billy had told him about the strike force waiting for them on Harbour Island. Jack and Charles spent the rest of the afternoon figuring out what to do. Anne and Abigail mostly silent. Anne because that's what she always did and Abigail did not have much to add to the conversation.

At one point, things between Jack and Charles almost came to a blowout. Jack had suggested using slaves to rebuild the fort faster and Charles was on him in a heartbeat. Charles left hand was around Jack's throat pushing him against the wall of the room, the other drawn back in a fist ready to strike, "Knowing what you know. Don't you ever, EVER suggest that again, Jack." Charles's fist struck Jack's face with a resounding crunch. He would have a black eye by tomorrow but having made his point, Charles let him go. Anne had gotten up when Charles had grabbed Jack but did not intervene.

At last though, a plan was formulated. Jack's crew would stay behind manning the fort, clearing it out while Charles's crew would go out and hunt down ships that had cargo they needed. Jack had explained that Max was doing a decent job of managing the merchants so at least for now, they saw no need to interfere. It was however important to secure their own position. Jack had drawn up a provisional list of supplies they needed and they would sail out hunting for ships carrying lumber to the English towns in the West Indies. They would need to careen the ship first but hopefully they would have their supplies within a few weeks.

With everything finally settled, Charles and Jack left the room, one to order some food and drink to be send up the other to relieve himself, leaving Abigail and Anne alone with each other.

Anne did not wait long to make her move and quickly settled into the chair that Charles had just abandoned, her eyes staring into Abigail's. Anne kept her stare up until Abigail had to look away, blinking rapidly, her eyes stinging.

Her dominance established, Anne started talking, "So, why are you 'ere? Wha' do you want?" Abigail started to recount her actions in Charles Town, but Anne interrupted her. "I know that, but you could've stayed. Nobody saw you." Hearing those words, Abigail realized what exactly Anne was asking her.

"I didn't want to stay. I didn't want to be at their mercy anymore. I wanted to be more than just a piece of furniture that men could do with as they pleased. That is what you asked, isn't it," Abigail asked. Anne gave her a sharp nod and vacated Charles's chair again, stepping closer to Abigail. Anne drew out her one of her many knifes and cocked her head, " 'as he taught you how to fight, yet?"

Jack intercepted Charles on the upstairs landing, blocking his way from proceeding towards the room they had occupied before. To the innocent onlooker Jack was casually leaning against the bannister waiting for him but Charles knew that he was trying to make sense of the situation.

Finally, with a shake of his head Jack started talking, "You know, I can't, for the life of me, think of how you and she ended up right here. I saw the way she was looking at you, and for that matter, the way you looked at her. What in the world happened between you two?"

Charles opted not to fight his old comrade on this. It would be tiresome and in the end, Jack would still get the information he desired. He had this way of being relentless in his pursuit for knowledge. Charles leaned against the bannister next to Jack. Several moments of silence passed before he spoke, "She killed for me and I owed her. Took her with me." Restless, he turned to look at the revelry below, gripping the bannister with his hands. "Then? I don't know what happened, but I know that if anything happens to her I'll burn this whole motherfucking town to the ground."

Jack clapped Charles on the shoulder, silently commiserating with him. Jack knew that this could spell trouble ahead for them depending on Miss Ashe's actions but at least, Charles was finally over the Guthrie bitch.

Meanwhile, Anne had begun Abigail's tutelage. The girl had immediately intrigued her. Not only because she had reminded her of herself when she was much younger. Abigail's admission had only cemented the respect Anne felt for her. A woman, choosing her own path and willing to use whatever measures to ensure she reached her goals, deserved respect and instruction. They were after all the underdogs in this society and they would do well in sticking together. Charles had done good work with the basics, Anne concluded when Abigail demonstrated what she knew.

When Jack and Charles approached the door to the room they immediately recognized the noises that were coming from inside: struggle, fight, danger. They shared one look and both drew their cutlasses. Giving Jack a little nod, Charles burst through the door and immediately stopped in his tracks, Jack stopping just a little behind him. Both trying to make sense of what was displayed before them: Abigail had Anne pinned on the table, dagger at Anne's throat.

Abigail's focus was drawn from Anne, when the door was slammed open. Charles and Jack stormed into the room, ready for a fight. Seeing them crash into the room, Abigail smiled at them, "Oh, you're back." She quickly took a step back from Anne, withdrawing her dagger at the same time. She looked back down at Anne and reached out. Anne grabbed her hand and Abigail pulled her back into a standing position and then in for a brief hug. A curt, "Thank you," left her lips, before she let go.

It was an incredulous, "What the fuck?" from Jack that finally broke the silence. Realizing that he was still holding his cutlass, Charles quickly sheathed it and came further into the room. She looked back at Jack and said, "Anne was just teaching me something." Jack shook his head and defeated, sank into a chair. _With those two teaming up_ , he concluded, _Charles and he wouldn't stand a chance._


	23. Chapter 22

Jack and Anne had gone back to the fort, leaving Charles and Abigail alone in the room. The brothel around them was getting livelier the later the hour grew. Drinks were flowing freely downstairs and some had picked up instruments. All the noise could still not drown out the moans coming from the rooms around them though.

Abigail hated to admit it but she was overwhelmed. She had been able to adjust to life on the ship relatively easily but that had been a contained environment. Now though, all bets were off. Jack's status report had only helped to highlight it. Frustrated with herself, she stood up and made her way onto the balcony. The night time air was cool and smelled of the sea. It helped to calm her down a bit but her gaze was drawn to the traffic in the streets. It was as busy as London during day time. People moving from here to there, shouting at each other, talking to each other. Just then a fight broke out, men drunkenly throwing punches at each other. It was broken up quickly by their respective crew mates but Abigail felt her control slipping away from her. What the fucking hell had she been thinking? She could not help but give a mirthless laugh at her thoughts.

Charles had grown concerned when she had stepped out on the balcony. She clearly needed some space but she still had not come back inside by the time he had finished his drink. Before he could go and ask her, there was a small knock on the door and a voice said, "We are ready for your bath now." He quickly let the men that were carrying the heavy wooden bath tub in and soon there was a steady stream of people emptying buckets of warm water into the tub. He went out to get her as soon as the tub had been filled. He did not mind a bit of dirt but after weeks of being out at sea a hot bath would do them both good.

She did not realize how cold she had gotten until Charles came to stand behind her. After all she was just wearing some thin shirt and trousers. She had not worn shoes since that fateful day in Charles Town. She could feel the heat radiating of him. She was startled out of her thoughts by his gruff voice, "Are you alright?" The concern in his voice evident. She turned around and gave him a small, sad smile, "It's all a bit much right now, I have to admit."

Gently he took her hand and lead her back inside, making sure to close the doors to the outside. It really was uncommonly cold for Nassau today. He pointed over to the steaming tub and said, "I thought we both could use it. You go first. There are some towels over there and I had them bring a spare shift for you."

She smiled at him gratefully. This was exactly what she needed. Once upon a time, when she had lived in London, her weekly baths had been something she looked forward to and this would help her relax. She stepped up to the tub and felt the temperature. It was hot, almost too hot to bear. She hesitated briefly before undressing. She was acutely aware that Charles was still in the room, watching her even but she could no longer resist the temptation of the hot water. She winced when she stepped into the tub. The hot water almost scalding on her cold feet. Slowly, she sank into the water. Once seated, her eyes closed and head leaning back against the tub, a quiet sigh escaped her lips. The heat of the water making her feel better immediately.

 _It felt unfair to leave him with lukewarm water_ Abigail thought _, and sharing the tub might be nice though probably not very relaxing in the end._ The words, "Join me" left her mouth before too long. She still had her eyes closed. She dared not to look at him. Her cheeks already felt red hot, whether it was from the heat or from her forwardness she did not know. She did however hear him remove his clothes. The boots went first, hitting the ground with heavy thuds. Then the shirt, unceremoniously dropped to the ground next to the boots. The fire in her belly began burning again when she heard him unfasten his trousers.

He came to stand next to the tub. She still had not moved from her position. She looked delectable in Charles's eyes. The water line reached barely to her nipples. Droplets of sweat running down the valley between her breasts, revealing the skin underneath the dirt. "Are you going to let me in?" His voice sounded hoarse to his ears but she scooted forward nonetheless. The water was scalding when he stepped into the tub but it was her that was making his body flush.

He finally settled down. The tub almost too small for the both of them and he was sure they had spilled plenty of water on the floor but he did not care. All that mattered was the feel of her against his body. She had come to rest on the top of his thighs, leaning back against his chest. His cock, rock hard, trapped between them and his arms wrapped around her middle.

Abigail could feel him, right there at the small of her back. His arms had come to rest around her, cradling her to him. The heat was making her skin extra sensitive and she could feel him everywhere. She could feel her nipples perk. Involuntarily she slightly arched her back, exposing her breasts to the cool air. Her nipples now hardening even more because of the cold. Charles grip on her tightened slightly but she could not stop moving. Her lower body was throbbing with desire and the only one who could sate it, was he.

With a groan, Charles released the hold on her body. Instead, he captured her breasts with his hands. They fit perfectly. Lazily he started playing with them. As always, he was amazed by his ability to drive her to the edge so easily. Even more amazing was that she let him. She had been embarrassed after the first few times. The stern words of mothers, governesses and priests echoing in her thoughts. But she had grown comfortable enough to let him see her, touch her. And he gladly obliged, driving her over the edge time and time again.

He had kept up his ministrations during his musings and he could tell that Abigail was close. Her head was resting on his shoulder. Eyes closed. Moans escaping her mouth. Her hips were bucking in the water, causing it to spill over the edge. He lifted his legs, raising her out of the water. Her legs immediately fell open, ready for his touch. He slowly moved one of his hands down, drawing lazy circle on her skin. Her hands were gripping the edges hard and once his hand finally reached its destination between her legs, she let out a deep moan. He decided that he had made her wait long enough and immediately got to work, rubbing her with his index finger, applying soft pressure. Within seconds she came apart.

Abigail's senses slowly returned to her as if she were returning from some other plane of existence. This was nothing like what she had heard the other women talk about. Their advice was just to lie there and wait for it to be over. To think, that she could have missed out on these feelings saddened her.

But now that she was fully aware of her surroundings again, she could not ignore the man that was sharing her tub. Her body pressing into his. His hard cock still begging for her attention. She had not yet returned the favours that Charles had been giving her, but to think that she could make him fall apart just like he did to her empowered her.

She opened her eyes and turned her head. Her lips were immediately met by his. He was ravaging her mouth and she gladly let him. She managed to twist her body around the tub. Now awkwardly lying on top of him but neither of them cared. She finally managed to withdraw from him. Mouths reddened, lips swollen. Both breathing heavily. She lifted her upper body and looked at him sprawled before her. He was looking at her through hooded eyes. He looked magnificent. His long hair unruly and messy. Apparently, he had taken out the leather cord that normally tied it back. His body sun-tanned and all hard muscle. She involuntarily licked her lips when looking at him. He was so different from the men she had encountered back in London. Wild almost. She slowly let her eyes wander down along his body until they reached his cock. It was standing proud and somehow it was supposed to fit inside her. Her insides clenching at the thought, with delight and apprehension but not, yet. She was not ready but he deserved some pleasure as well.

Maybe, she thought, she could do what he had been doing using her own hands. Tentatively she reached out with one hand and wrapped it around him. It was hard, warm and like nothing she had touched before. She did not know what to do. Maybe it was the intimacy of the moment or maybe it was that she had too much to drink earlier but her inhibitions seemed to have disappeared into thin air. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "Show me." Charles groaned at her words and wrapped his hand around hers. He quickly began stroking himself. He was so close already. His head tilted back against the tub, eyes closed. It did not take long for him to come. Finally feeling her hand on his cock pushing him over the edge fast.

Once he had regained his sense, he grabbed her immediately and pulled her towards him. He held her against his chest for a long time, the water around them slowly cooling. Abigail finally disturbed the silence that had settled around the room. She groggily lifted her head and gave him a small smile, "We should probably get clean before the water turns cold." She was right even if he was loathed to admit it. The water had indeed already cooled quite a lot so they both hurriedly cleaned each other.

Before long, both had stepped out of the tub. The water had turned grey from their combined grime. By now it was late and the noises around them had quieted down somewhat. Apparently even Nassau's pirates needed their sleep. They snuffed out the few candles that were illuminating their room and crawled into bed.

Abigail had briefly thought about putting on the shift that Charles had procured but when she came to lie next to his naked body she was glad she had not done so.


End file.
